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GEO. IST. ^cLIEJ^IbT. 
REVISED EDITION. 



"BRO BONO PUBLICO." 



*' Let there be many windows to your soul, 
That all the glory of the universe may beautify it.'" 

—Ella Wheeler. 



CHICAGO : 

THE LEWIS PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

1887. 




q} 



COPYRIGHT, 

1887, 

By THE LEWIS PUBLISHING COMPANY. 



All rights reserved. 



Printed and Bound by Donohue & Henneberry Chicago. 



PEEFAOE. 




ITH an earnest desire to benefit our race, we 
dedicate this much needed work to the inter- 
ests of a common humanity, and pray that 
wherever sin and suffering and disease have 
come the blessing of purity and peace may 
rest, that where darkness and ignorance reign, 
where superstition holds the heart in thrall, 
we may be able to cast athwart the pathway 
of those benighted ones some glittering gems 
of thought to inspire hope in the hearts of 
earth's weary and wayward children. 

It is fortunate to have been born in this advanced age 
of the world, to find one's self stepping from the cradle 
into the fore-world of thought, while the broad, sweeping 
wings of advancing knowledge fan with perfumed breezes 
the thoughtful brow. 

It is a joy to know that this world is pregnant with 
priceless blessings for humanity. In accordance with the 
divine economy of God, the rich and poor, the wise and 
foolish, have alike free access to these blessings, and faith 
and hope forever shine, breaking in glory upon the 
mountains of the future, whose towering peaks of 



6 



PREFACE. 



Alpine splendor are growing ruby and purple in 
the rays of the rising sun of Progress. Our com- 
rades are now pressing up the mountain side of 
scientific research. Hear their glad voices resounding 
the crags among as they exclaim : " Now is high noon 
of the world ; let us bid farewell to the superstitions of 
earlier days and lands o'erladen by the history of ages." 
May this vast tree of progress and life, whose leaves 
are for the healing of the nations, flourish, and like 
hope and experience grow side by side, waving its bene- 
diction to the golden sunset. 




CONTENTS. 



Page. 
Introduction 9 

Germ Theory of Disease 13 

Conception 20 

Changes of Fcetal Brain 25 

Monstrous Births . . 29 

Continence During Gestation ...... 34 

Mastubation . 39 

Sexual Promiscuity 45 

Man's Responsibility 50 

Abortion 58 

Prevention 63 

Changes of Life 67 

Signs of Pregnancy 73 

• 
Grandeur of Woman 80 

Duty to Parents 84 

Progress 86 

Wonders of the Microscope . . . , 91 

The Human Ey t e 97 

The Ear 102 

Manliness 105 

To the Young Contemplating Matrimony 108 

Love 126 

The Charm of Youth 131 

Jealousy 135 

Immutability of Natural Law 138 

A Plea For Justice 142 

Woman's Rights 145 

Marriage 156 

Influence of Marriage 1 63 

7 



5 



illusteat: 



Page. 
Celibacy 168 

Dress 172 

Extravagance 176 

Idleness 179 

Youth. Hope and Love 183 

Human Ltfe 181 

Friendship , 188 

Human Nature 193 

Future Prospect 197 

The Lover 199 

Then and Now , 201 

A Cheerful Face 305 

Brevities and Miscellaneous Subjects 207 

Ladies'* Toilet Department 234 

Domestic Department and Household Recipe- 257 

Etiquette of the Household 247 



ILLUSTRATION- 



Page. 
Frontispiece 

The Human Frame 11 

Electric Globe 17 

Magnified Germs H 

The Future Man 40 

What the Boy may Become . . 43 

Hidden Secrets 64 

The Old Homestead 81 

The "Winged Victory 86 

The Human Eye ; 97 

Night Scene 99 



Page. 
The Old Bridge Ill 

The Tree in Leaf 117 

The Bride 121 

Childhood 133 

Paradise Park 153 

The Artist 191 

Rock of Ages : 

Dreaming of Mother 209 

Embarking I '.' 

Solitude 219 



CHAPTEK I. 



INTRODUCTION. 



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T has been observed by scientific men that 
the human system, viewed from a mechan- 
ical standpoint, presents no evidence of 
decay. That apparently it was intended 
to go on forever. Whether this was 
meant to be literally true, or not, we 
shall not at this time attempt to affirm 
or deny. Certain it is, however, that ordi- 
narily man should live one hundred 
years or more in the full bloom of 
vigorous manhood ere he enters into that 
condition incident to old age ; and then 
his declining years should not be attended 
with suffering, but free from pain and disease, and as 
he feels the touch of death's magic wand upon his 
hoary brow, he could exclaim : " And is this the 
closing scene of life? If such thy ending, how 
beautiful thou art, and amid those shifting scenes 
which brings the transition, view the changes with 
composure and delight, and bid a hearty welcome 

to the messenger who ushers him into the immor- 

9 




lU INTRODUCTION. 

tality of eternal life." Such should be the ending of 
humanity, but alas ! how different are the facts ! 
Man enters upon the stage of action, and soon 
becomes a candidate for the physician's care and 
sympathy. He lingers for a time in pain and 
disease, and almost before he reaches the threshold of 
vigorous manhood, he leaves the race-course of life 
and is jostled into the grave. So strong is the 
tendency to disease and death, that he who escapes 
either, and especially the former, is a subject of 
congratulation. Life is so full of physical discomfort 
that it amounts to a fiercely contested battle, with 
the chances largely against the forces of life. And 
because life is attended with such fearful struggles 
and disasters ambitious men have been searching 
for a weapon with which to rout the enemy and 
bring victory unto life's forces. Braving every 
danger, they have studied the nature of disease, 
beginning at its incubative process and continuing 
their observations as disease unfolded to its full 
development, contesting every inch of progress with 
carefully chosen means, until with a shout of 
triumph they have inscribed victory upon their 

banners. 

" Yet scorns the immortal mind 
This base control ! 
No chains can bind it 
And no cell enclose." 

Wm. L. Garrison. 




VIEW OF THE HUMAN FRAME. 



11 



CHAPTER II. 




THE GERM THEOEY. 

KEEMINENT among the tireless host of pub- 
lic benefactors who by indomitable perse- 
verance, by expensive experiment and care- 
fully observed morbid phenomena have placed 
within our hands knowledge which, if acted 
upon, will render old age accessible, and scat- 
ter with flowers our pathway to the tomb, is the 
German physician Koch, and the French physicians, De- 
lat and Pasteur, so justly celebrated for making aggress- 
ive warfare upon disease, thereby taking their position in 
the front rank of eminent physicians of today. This trio 
have created a new interest in the study of morbid and 
abnormal conditions, by demonstrating beyond contro- 
versy the fact that any departure from health is the 
result of living germs taking up their residence in the 
tissues and blood in the human body. 

To say that this announcement created a furore 
in the medical world, is only fully to express the senti- 
ment which crystallized into words : unbelief, — astonish- 
ment, — doubt, — and acceptance. But when comment 
had swept from one end of civilization to the other, many 
believing and some doubting the truth of this audacious 

statement, while others occupied the middle ground of 

13 



14 THE GERM THEORY. 

wonder and amazement, ready only to believe like doubt- 
ing Thomas when they see the proof, and thrust the hand 
into the open side of Progress. But these gentlemen had 
so fortified themselves with proof as to be able to give a 
practical demonstration that disease has its origin in a 
living germ or parasite taking up its abode in the system, 
and capable of multiplying with amaziug rapidity, quite 
sufficient to overwhelm the organism and produce death. 
Nor did their observations stop here, but continu- 
ing their research they have shown that these micro- 
scopic beings are divided into several distinct classes or 
colonies, all possessing features in common, yet each 
family retaining a distinct identit}^ and disease-produc- 
ing power. That which can develop diphtheria cannot 
go beyond this, so that any departure from diphtheria 
in the morbid train of symptoms introduces another 
variety of the plague to the scene of action. From 
this it will be readily seen that these germs are not 
identical in function, but are confined to a special field 
of action. They also differ in size and general appear- 
ance, some being elongated or rod-shaped, while others 
are round ; other varieties appear to be flat. Referring 
to size, some are distinctly visible with a low-power 
instrument, while other varieties, although present in 
abundance, escape detection until the field of vision is 
magnified many hundred diameters. They also differ 
in tenure of, and tenacity for life ; some forms pass the 
period of development and maturation in a few hours, 
while others require days to pass their cycle ; some appear 
to be extremely vital, but possess a low grade of tenacity 
for life, while others exhibit just the opposite features, 



THE GERM THEORY. 15 

being less vital, but continue to live several hours after 
being immersed in a fluid which quickly destroys other 
forms of animalcular life. It is intensely interesting to 
note the personal characteristics of these countless 
myriads, but it should be more interesting for us to 
use the key which a knowledge of these recently dis- 
covered facts places in our hands. First, they state in a 
clear and lucid manner, that which has long been 
regarded as mysterious, relative to the action, or more 
properly the inaction of medicine upon disease. They 
demonstrate to our minds that medicine is not capable of 
destroying or arresting the development of germ life, 
after it has taken up its residence in our tissues. But there 
is that which goes a step further, and furnishes an agent 
which is competent to destroy those germs, and at once 
arrest their further development; such an agent we 
believe has been discovered in the scientific application, of 
electricity. So numerous are the germs in any well 
defined disease, that their numbers absolutely defy com- 
putation. Some idea of their relative size may be 
gathered from the fact that a space no larger than a 
drop of water suspended from the point of a fine needle, 
is ample to contain not less than fifty thousand of these 
tiny fellows. 

When it is known that these parasites are actively 
engaged in sustaining their own life, as also propagating 
their offspring, we can readily account for the serious 
disturbance which follows their introduction into our 
bodies. 

Among the many methods which are used to over- 
come disease it is often found that the most skillfully di- 



16 THE GERM THEORY. 

rected efforts fail, for although the organism may have 
been deluged with powerful remedial agencies, yet thev 
do not reach the end sought for. It is generally conceded 
that carbolic acid takes a high rank in drug action as a 
germicide, but a serious bar to its effective use is that car- 
bolic acid is poisonous to the human tissues, and hence 
cannot be used internally except to a very limited extent. 

A careful scientific survey of all the facts connected 
with disease demonstrates that all the agencies for the 
arrest and destruction of germ life are attended with 
a vagueness and uncertainty, yet we believe that where 
the electric spark is continued among them, they must 
die and become inoperative as a disease-producing cause. 
Medical men and electricians have for years been 
aware of the virtues of electricity as a therapeutic agent, 
and have from their own random experiments produced 
the most astonishing cures, which have set at defiance 
the philosophy of the medical world. If relief came un- 
der electric treatment, it was regarded as a matter of 
chance rather than a certainty, and was looked upon as 
an accident, instead of the effect of immutable law. 

The effect of electricity upon the human system is to 
keep the physical machine in a normal condition, keeping 
the blood and tissues charged with this elixir of life. 
And immediately when the master tissues are made 
strong-, the functional activity of the viscera of the bodv 
is augmented, the absorbent network takes on new energy, 
the stomach is replenished with a new flow of gastric 
juice, the bowels are stimulated to evacuate their con- 
tents, the kidneys, those grand eliminators of all poisons 
of the soluble type, search the entire volume of blood for 




17 



THE GEKM THEOKY. 



19 



impurities and pass them to the external world via the 
bladder. The heart is then fed with a pure blood stream, 
and its pulsations are vigorous, regular and normal. 
From the physical let us look to the mental. The 
change is no less sudden or wonderful. The vision is 
clear, mental coordination flows easy and without fatigue, 
perception is rapid and exquisite, the mind capable of 
deep thought and accurate conclusions, and in proportion 
as the physical is healthy, in a corresponding degree will 
the mental phenomena be spontaneous and fruitful. 





CHAPTEE III. 




CONCEPTION. 

p understand the nature and peculiarity of 
man's complete organism, involves first, brain 
to recognize and comprehend the phenomena 
which manifest themselves in a multitude of 
ways, from the moment of conception, until 
the closing scene is consummated, when the 
one magnificent entity becomes a mass of 
common clay. 
It is our purpose to give our readers the latest 
revealed facts concerning conception ; where it oc- 
curs, and what the mysterious process is through 
which it becomes established ; how to generate healthy 
and intellectual children ; the influence of the mother 
upon the unborn child ; also important hints to 
those contemplating marriage, and motherhood, with 
many other things which those who read and can under- 
stand will appreciate and turn to good account, for let us 
remember we will be held accountable not only for the 
knowledge we possess, but likewise for that knowledge 
which we may obtain. We are expected to make a prog- 

20 



CONCEPTION. 21 

ress in these things as well as in astronomical and other 
scientific developments, for the benefit of on-coming 
generations, for Knowledge is Power, and by this knowl- 
edge the world may be raised to a higher plane in the 
moral realm. The word of inspiration is heard proclaim- 
ing that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made." Is 
this not a hint that there are mysteries relative to our 
existence within our reach if we but grasp the key and 
join the ranks of noble men who are blessing the world by 
lifting the curtain of darkness which hangs like a pall 
over many a prospect unblessed by progress. 

Conception signifies impregnation, or being in a con- 
dition to perpetuate our race. This condition involves 




Cut No. 1 represents the magnified view of the spermatozoa or 
vital principle of the male fluid, magnified 2,000. 

Cut No. 2 is a representation of the female ovum or egg, hereinbefore 
described in the process of fecundation, magnified about 200 diameters. 

the presence of the male and female. Conception may 
take place in the womb, or in the cavity of the fallopian 
tubes, or on the surface of the ovary, or seed of the 
woman. The female egg or ova is a minute oval-shaped 
mass, surrounded by a thin and very delicate envelope or 
membrane. The interior has the appearance of albumen, 
or the white of an egg. These eggs or ova ripen once a 
month at the time the female has her monthlv crisis, or 
menses. They develop in the substance of the ovary, and 



39 )hceptio». 

as they mature find their wav toward the surface of the 
ovary, when they are capable of fecundation. This term 
signifies the fertilization of the egg. Fecundation of the 
ova is not synonymous with conception, but is the impreg- 
nation of the egg with the spermatozoa or vital principle 
of the male fluid which only has the effect to make con- 
ception possible. I will now proceed to inform my readers 
how fecundation is accomplished. v ~ 

filled with a multitude of long, slender spermatozoa. 
They are shaped not unlike the tadpole, having a well 
defined head or upper extremity, and a shaft -like tail or 
body as lower extremity. They are about 1— 700th part 
of an inch in length, and about l-i. th part of an 
inch in diameter. Thev are exceeding-lv active, and 
under the microscope they present a very animated appear- 
ance, moving through the seminal fluid by a vibratory 
motion. Imagine one of these tiny fellows coming in 
contact with the human ovum, penetrating the thin 
membrane surrounding it and passing in. and you have 
grasped the process of fecundation. 

In whatever part of the female organ fecundation 
occurs, conception may also occur: hence it sometimes 
happens that the zoosperm finds a lodgement in the 
ovulum or egg before it leaves the ovarv. and it mav 
adhere or become affixed to the surface of the ovary. 
which constitutes conception, for let it be remembered 
that at whatever part of the generative organs the 
fecundated egg affixes itself, there conception takes 
place. 

If it occurs on the surface of the ovary development 
proceeds as if it had occurred in the womb, until by its 



CONCEPTION. 23 

weight it falls off into the the cavity of the abdomen, 
which is called extrauterine pregnancy, because it has 
taken place outside of the womb. Again the zobsperm 
comes in contact with the ovum during its transit from 
the ovary to the womb, through the little tube called the 
fallopian tube, and conception results if it adheres to the 
walls of the canal, thus constituting what is known as 

FALLOPIAN PREGNANCY. 

Fortunately these abnormal and extrauterine concep- 
tions seldom occur, as when they do exist and are not 
determined at a very early period and means employed 
to destroy the foetus, death is almost certain to be the 
result. 

We do not care to discuss at length the frequency of 
extrauterine pregnancy, but will confine our remarks to 
the functions of the womb, where nearly all pregnancies 
are conceived and developed. 

The womb is pear-shaped and hangs suspended in the 
abdomen. It is held in position by flat and round liga- 
ments. Its base or fundus is directed upwards, its apex 
or neck downwards and dips into the canal called the 
vagina or birthplace. Its length in the virgin varies 
from two to two and one-haif inches. After bearing a 
child, the size is increased a little, as it never becomes 
quite as small as it was prior to pregnancy. 

The substance of the womb differs from all other 
tissues of the body. It is neither flesh, fish nor fowl. 

It has few nerves distributed through its substance, 
and becomes literally filled with blood-vessels after 
conception has taken place. The egg as soon as affixed 
to the inner surface of the womb instantly establishes a 



24 



CONCEPTION. 



circulation, although simple and imperfect, yet sufficient 
to start towards that final condition of perfect develop- 
ment ordained by our Creator, which makes it an 
independent being, and capable of living independent of 
the mother. 




CHAPTER IY. 




CHANGES OF THE FOETAL BEAIN. 




HERE are many curious facts relative to the 
egg, or child, during uterine development, 
which have thus far eluded the mental grasp 
or comprehension of the shrewdest professor of 
obstetrics, and baffled the skill of the most 
successful physiological expert. It has been 
demonstrated that the brain of the foetus 
undergoes many interesting changes during 
gestation. To illustrate this curious fact so that 

fthe reader may more definitely understand it, I 
will mention some of the more notable changes 
occurring while in the narrow chamber of the 
womb. The brain being the master tissue of the human 
frame, necessarily takes the lead in development, of all 
the other parts, and here, at a very early period of gesta- 
tion it is found that the brain and nervous system is be- 
ing developed at the expense of the other organs and 
tissues. 

The first definite shape and size the foetal brain 
takes on, is the general form and appearance of the low- 
est zoophite. It remains in this condition for a short 

time, when it assumes another shape and an increase in 

25 



26 CHANGES OF THE FCETAL BRAIN 

size corresponding in form to the next grade in animal 
life. Thus after a few successive changes, the brain of the 
human embryo, presents all the characteristics of the 
common frog. Later it resembles the squirrel, becoming 
more complex and intricate as it rises in the scale of be- 
ing through the gradations which a mysterious Provi- 
dence has ordained it shall pass, before it can take the 
sublime rank of a human soul. 

After the cerebral mass has passed through its graduat- 
ing process and has reached the appearance and presents 
the general characteristics of the brain of a dog, the subse- 
quent changes occur less hastily, owing, probably, to the 
fact that as the organ has become changed from a simple 
to a complex mass, more time is required to complete and 
shape these complex processes. 

During and while these divers changes are going on 
in the brain, the other organs are in direct harmony of 
development, so that when the fruit of the womb is ripe, 
the entire organism presents symmetrical proportions, it is 
said that the last change the foetal brain assumes before 
reaching completion, is the form and general charac- 
teristics of the brain of the elephant. Is it not wonder- 
ful to contemplate those series of tremendous metamor- 
phoses through which the brain passes before attaining 
that sublime, and almost divine height of the human 
fabric, a living soul 

The elephant is regarded as nearest the human in 
respect to sagacity and intelligence among the brute 
creation, and hence we find the foetal brain attaining 
this high rank in the animal scale immediately pre- 
ceding its ability to begin life on an independent basis. 



CHANGES OF THE F(ETAL BRAIN. "21 

The reader will note that the brain begins with the 
lowest form of animal life that possesses a brain, and 
passes through many successive changes upward through 
the scale of animal life until it reaches the grand com- 
pletion of a human being. 

Much time and talent have been wasted in vain en- 
deavor to determine why these successive changes take 
place in the human brain during uterine life, but the 
more we attempt to fathom its mysteries, the more we 
become involved in a network of hypothetical surmises, 
doubt and uncertainty, and at the conclusion of our 
investigation we are forced to admit that we are no 
nearer a solution of this momentous question than when 
we began reaching out after those mysteries which are 
known only to the Author of our being. 

Yet it would be folly to say that this struggle to 
wring from nature this profound secret, or that the 
limited progress made in scientific research in this 
direction is not fraught with lessons of vital impor- 
tance to our race. Though we are able now to grasp 
only partial knowledge of the whys and wherefores of 
immutable law, yet every fact gleaned is a golden step 
in the ladder of progress which is yet to raise mankind 
above the fogs of superstition and ignorance to a 
higher plane ol existence where we may wait and see 
those great secrets of nature unfolded to our eager, 
anxious, wondering gaze, for to us is a promise given, 
"that which thou knowest not now, thou shalt know 
hereafter." For it is consistent with the teachings 
of immutable law, that if Ave would make progress 
we must strive and watch and labor and wait, not 



28 



CHANGES OF THE FCETAL BRAIN. 



forgetting to take cognizance of what seem to be 
small things in the march of progress, for yonder 
twinkling speck of light which ever and anon 
breaks through the accumulated gloom of ages upon 
the distant horizon of progress may prove to be a 
beacon to light us on to scientific discovery with which 
to bless the world and its wondering waiting millions, 
God hasten the auspicious time when the watchmen 
upon the walls of Zion shall see eye to eye. with the 
men of scientific research, for then and not till then 
will be ushered in the rosy, golden glory of the mil- 
lennial dawning of the day when the world will be re- 
deemed from the darkness of ignorance and the grasp 
and rule of vice. 




CHAPTEE Y. 




MONSTROUS BIRTHS. 



VERY instructive lesson is learned in the 
preceding chapter, in noticing the various 
and successive changes of the foetal brain, 
as in these changes we find a key to the 
mysteries of monstrous births. The most 
ordinary observer will readily admit the 
potential influence the mother exerts upon her unborn 
infant. And it is not difficult for us to understand 
that if during the earlier changes the mother should 
become frightened by any particular object the off- 
spring not infrequently presents many of the features 
of the disturbing cause, or of the animal whose grade 
it was passing through at the time the mother re- 
ceived the fright or shock, and the impression is in- 
delibly stamped upon her unborn child. As the brain is 
the medium of communication, it is reflected to that 
organ, and it being only partially developed, is highly 
sensitive to abnormal influences, and this profound shock 
which the mother has received has thrown it into con- 
fusion, and blighted its further development ; and, 

although the other tissues are more or less affected, 

29 



30 MONSTROUS BIRTHS. 

yet, since they occupy a subordinate position to the 
brain, nature, though in a crippled condition, forces 
the less impressible structure to completion, and hence 
we find a monstrous birth. To illustrate this, let us 
suppose the foetus has in brain development reached the 
scale of the rabbit, and while in this state the mother 
is startled by some object ; she may give birth to a 
child with features resembling this little animal. The 
reason of this becomes apparent when we reflect that 
the brain has received an influence via the mother suf- 
ficient to deflect it from the natural order of develop- 
ment ; it would necessarily assume the characteristics of 
the natural animal of which it happened to be a like- 
ness at the moment the maternal impression was made. 
This course of reasoning is not only logical from anal- 
ogy and deduction, but is also fully borne out by 
every birth which has departed from the order which 
the God of nature has ordained. 

The question has also been asked, Can the sex of a 
child be determined before birth, and is there any law 
which, if understood and obeyed, will develop the sex 
desired, making the sex conform to the desire of the 
parents ? To all of these questions we give an unequivo- 
cal affirmative answer. We are bold to affirm that there 
are natural laws which govern all things, and that law is 
the great law of cause and effect. Having given this 
subject much attention and study, it shall be our pleasure 
to lay before our readers the open book of the law gov- 
erning sex, as also the means to be employed when a 
male child is desired, or vice versa. And it can not be 
controverted that great good would occur to nations, as 



MONSTROUS BIRTHS. 31 

well as communities and individual families, if the sex of 
children could be made to conform to the wishes of the 
parents. A great deal of speculation has been indulged 
in on this very important branch of hloloyy. The 
ancients discussed this subject, but were unable to 
unravel its mysteries. The prevailing idea was with 
them that the parent possessing the most vigor deter- 
mined the sex of the child. Observation, however, soon 
showed the fallacy of this theory, and their research 
ended in the belief that the male element was alone 
responsible in determining the sex, which gave rise to 
the speculation that during fatigue, when the vital forces 
were at a low ebb, a female would be generated ; while, 
on the other hand, a male child would be the result when 
the system was fresh, robust and full of vigor. Some 
reasoned that the spermatozoa, in the male fluid, were 
miniature human beings, and that the only function of 
the mother was to appropriately clothe and develop it 
for birth ; and that as each individual spermatozoon pos- 
sessed a rudimentary form and a complete organism, 
their sex must necessarily be determined before leaving 
the organ of the male. 

Such diverse opinions of men of equal ability on this 
subject shows clearly that they possessed but a trace of 
knowledge relative to the science of life, or of sex. 

But their inquiry in this direction and their opinion 
expressed, no matter how crude their ideas were, spoke 
loudly of progress, and pointed significantly to a time in 
the near future when the mysteries which surrounded 
this science should be explained ; when in the march of 
intellect this problem, so vexing and intricate, must be 



32 MONSTROUS BIRTHS. 

subjected to a crucial test, and the vail rent from the 
top to the bottom which had so long shrouded with 
its dark folds this important step in scientific knowl- 
edge. 

Experimenting with the lower animals has clearly 
shown that the female is an important factor, and. indeed, 
I may go further, and add that if conditions hereafter 
given, are observed and faithfully carried out, the mother 
alone is capable of determining what the sex of the child 
shall be. 

There is good reason to believe that the locality at 
which conception takes place bears an important part in 
determining the sex. The philosophy of this reasoning 
is founded on the fact that male conceptions always oc- 
cur in the ris^ht side of the womb, and during the first 
three days after the cessation of the monthly epoch. 

The respective sides of the womb remain in a relative 
condition to the poles of an electric battery viz.: positive 
and negative-, and as the right side of the uterus is first 
negative, it follows as a natural sequence that it will 
remain receptive during its negative period, and much 
more likely to receive to its embrace the ovum, if insinu- 
ated upon its susceptible surface during a period of quiet- 
ude and reclining upon the right side. As the walls of 
the womb alternate in point of activity, the right side, 
which was first negative, gradually assumes the positive 
force, while the left becomes negative, and hence recep- 
tive for the human germ. Hence we claim that the 
mother, by virtue of her power to assume a reclining 
position either on the right or left side, has thereby the 
power of locating the foetus either in the right or left 



MONSTROUS BIRTHS. 33 

side of the uterus, and thereby determining the sex, irre- 
spective of the male element. 

I desire to call special attention to this fact, for unless 
this is understood, and intelligently observed at the time 
of conception, or affixation of the ovulum to the walls of 
the womb takes place, the chances for either sex will 
remain about equal. 

Therefore a lady contemplating motherhood should at 
such a time be free from physical fatigue and mental so- 
licitude. The act of both contracting parties should be the 
result of spontaneous, rather than artificial sexual excite- 
ment, which is the best possible combination of circum- 
stances calculated to give the joint offspring a living 
chance in the tremendous undertaking of human destiny, 
which without consultation on its part you force it to 
enter. With the foregoing information relative to the 
subject under consideration, I will proceed by stating 
that extended experiments justify the statement that a 
faithful observance of the foregoing conditions is followed 
without exception, by the sex, sought after or desired by 
the parents. 




CHAPTEK VI. 




CONTINENCE DURING GESTATION. 

I <HEBE is a great drama being acted out 
before our eyes; its actors are the men, 
women and children of the present 
I generation. The stage is the world, and 
those who act best their part in this 
great drama are those who obey best the 
laws of nature, and are willing upon 
some subjects to accept the salutary 
lessons taught by the dumb animals 
grazing upon the hillside. The subject under 
consideration is one, the ignorance or disregard 
of which has crippled our race through all the 
dark and gloomy past; and the consequences of this 
io-norance or disregard meet us at every turn in 
life, and the emaciated faces of its victims, with 
idiotic stare, glare unmeaningly at us in filthy streets, 
and from miserable tenements ; and their pallid, 
pleading faces, peer in upon our midnight slum- 
bers with outstretched hands, as if imploring us 
to come to the rescue of our race. And although 
the subject is a delicate one, we no longer shrink 

34 



CONTINENCE DURING GESTATION. 35 

from a duty thus impressed, but will endeavor to 
impress upon the mind of our readers (those who 
are raising a family) in as well chosen words as we 
may be able to command, the awful consequences 
of violating a law of nature which the animals 
upon the wild prairies refuse to be guilty of. I 
allude to the practice of sexual gratification during 
pregnancy. I want to impress this fact upon the 
mind, as I believe it vital to the welfare of 
offspring, and which is not understood, or entirely 
ignored. This act should on no account be indulged 
in while the mother is pregnant. It would seem 
unnecessary to enter into an argument in support of 
this proposition. The condition of the wife and mother 
locks up and renders all reciprocity of feeling impossi- 
ble, and any departure from this fact is evidence of 
disease. The most disastrous effect, however, is upon 
the child which is thus ruthlessly made the victim of 
unholy passion ; for who can deny that incalculable 
injury is impressed upon the little innocent by a 
worse than beastly indulgence of those within whose 
power it is to mold it for weal or woe. We speak 
of man as the finishing touch of the Infinite, who, as 
evidence of superiority over the brute, has extended 
to him a group of reasoning faculties, which, if prop- 
erly employed, are capable of making him shudder in 
contemplation of such an act. 

I undertake to say that the man who thus does, com- 
mits a sin often more terrible in its consequences than de- 
liberate murder. And why ? Because the victim is nour- 
ished, molded and developed in the midst of lust and pas- 



36 CONTINENCE DUKING GESTATION. 

sion ; the mother often wrought up to a cyclone of passion- 
ate desperation with the fruit of her womb passively absorb- 
ing those terrible tendencies, to have them flush into ac- 
tivity in early life, rendering all that is ennobling in the 
human intellect subordinate to lust, rapine, arson and 
general hellishness, the result of satiating a passion too 
damnable for human language to fitly characterize or de- 
scribe, lam conscious that I am using strong language, 
yet I regret that I cannot intensify the text, for through 
this channel is our race being maimed and crippled, more 
than from all other causes combined. 

Talk about whisky and intemperance ! The latter is 
an evil of gigantic proportions, but when compared with 
the former sinks into insignificance, and in comparison it 
occupies about the same relation that a tiny wind-swept 
flower does to a towering oak. So universal is this hein- 
ous sin that the very existence of nations are menaced, 
because it is a wrong that cannot be in any degree, or to 
any extent controlled by legal enactment. The only 
avenue of escape is an act of volition of the will on the 
part of those contemplating parentage. 

If children were begotten in harmony with natural 
law, by far the great majority of crimes would become in- 
operative and our race would receive an impetus toward 
a higher plane of physical and mental development, as 
well as many years added to the average of human life. 
Among the lower animals instinct alone is sufficient to 
check the approach of the male. After the female has 
conceived, by common consent, the sexual relation is 
suspended until the period of gestation terminates, 
while it remains for man, the higher animal, to ignore 



CONTINENCE DURING GESTATION. 37 

and openly violate this inexorable law of nature's God, 
which cannot be violated with impunity, as the penalty 
of every such violation must be paid in misery and crime, 
and early death entailed upon unborn generations. 

But I am consoled in the belief that this violation is 
oftener the result of ignorance and thoughtlessness than 
a perverse desire to violate law while seeking the gratifi- 
cation of low and debasing passions, " for to whomsoever 
ye yield your members servants to obey, his servants ye 
are." 

I believe that the medical profession is largely respon- 
sible for the prevailing ignorance upon this vital and 
important subject. Medical literature is strangely silent 
upon this momentous question, and if mentioned at all 
it is only done in a cursory manner, and the inference 
drawn by society is that it is the discordant wail of 
some crank, or at any rate, a matter of little importance. 

The most profound thinkers of the age believe that 
nearly, if not all, of the zymotic, or blood diseases have 
their origin in one common root, viz.: syphilis. And a 
similar process of reasoning brings us to the conclusion 
that nearly all moral taint is traceable to Sexual Indul- 
gence during Gestation. Can a herd-raiser be found 
who would suffer this fracture of the seventh command- 
ment among his flock during the breeding period ? And 
why ? Certainly for no other reason than that it might inter- 
fere with and prevent the full development of something 
that will have an intrinsic value of so many dollars and 
cents. And yet children with human destinies before 
them, the hope of on-coming generations, and who are 
expected to bless the world by rolling on the mighty 



38 CONTINENCE DURING GESTATION. 

wheel of progress are brought into existence without 
their own consent, and without the protection and under 
less auspicious circumstances than are universally ex- 
tended to the brute. 

Let a blush of shame crimson the cheek of every 
parent who has ever either knowingly or ignorautlv vio- 
lated this great natural law : and with reason still reign- 
ing supreme upon its throne register a vow to the God 
of nature that they will take one step in the way of prog- 
ress tending toward the elevation of the human race. 

Reader, have I overdrawn the picture, or magnified 
the facts \ If you will think dispassionately you will 
acquit me, I am certain, by an answer in the negative 
with an emphatic Xo. Then let every one who reads 
these pages resolve themselves into a committee of one to 
counteract, and remove the cause which has blighted, 
and continues to blight this semi-Christianized world. 

Vice is a monster of such frightful mien, 
That to be hated needs but to be seen, 
But seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

— Goldsmith. 






>§8N 







CHAPTER VII. 




MASTURBATION OF BOYS AND GIRLS. 

ET us discard all inferior strife in an unworthy 
calling, and hold up to our children the exam- 
ple of the wise and good, as the symbol, not 
merely of wisdom, but of purity and truth. 
Let us labor continually to make that advance 
in civilization which becomes us to do, so that 
the progress which has been so honorably 
secured may be firmly entailed upon the ever- 
enlarging generations of mankind. May the 
steady and united cry of excelsior up to 
the most elevated regions of sacred, social sanctity 
and domestic purity, win for its devotees in the hearts 
of all the truly good, a monument more enduring than 
that of the proudest monarch. After a serious contem- 
plation of the foregoing chapter, I am led to consider the 
evils indicated under the present heading as the direct 
result of the abuses enumerated in the preceding subject. 
While I feel inadequate to the task before me, yet I 
will endeavor to raise a danger signal over the awful 
vortex where so many lovely daughters or manly sons 
have sunk to rise no more. 

Masturbation is practiced to an alarming extent at 

the present era of our world by both sexes. Some 

39 



40 MASTURBATION OF BOYS AND GIRLS. 

are led to see the awful results of their demoralizing and 
disgusting habit before it becomes too firmly fastened 
upon them, and by a superior will power, or through the 
advice and assistance of some friend, abandon the habit 
and thereby escape the full force of its damning influ- 
ence. 

But to be in harmony with truth it must be said that 
this class is in the minority, for by far the great majority 
are either wrecked and ruined for life upon the reefs and 
shoals of youthful indiscretion, or have their future 




THE FUTURE MAN. 



saddened by a knowledge of the impression this solitary 
habit has wrought upon their organism. 

The author is acquainted with a minister, whom no one 
would be likely to suspect, who had been addicted to this 
sickening vice. Indeed, I was not a little surprised during 
the examination of his case, to elicit from him the fact 
that he attributed all his trouble to this terrible vice. 
He had contracted this habit at the age of fifteen years, 
and continued it uninterruptedly, until he was eighteen 
years of age, when, through the friendly advice and 



MASTURBATION OF BOYS AND GIRLS. 41 

guidance of one of his associates, who was a medical 
student, he, after a prolonged struggle, abandoned the 
curse of his young life ; but not, however, until serious 
and lasting impressions had been woven into every fiber 
of his pliant organism. His weight was 150 pounds, of a 
nervous, sanguine temperament ; a man of large mental 
grasp and great power of descriptive language. One 
would not suppose him to have fallen into the meshes of 
the seductive tyrant, yet his words were : 

" Doctor, had it not been for this habit I would have 
been a much greater power for good in the world." 
Alas! this knowledge often comes too late to be rem- 
edied, for, as physiological disease becomes complicated, 
a corresponding obstinacy to remedial agencies is gener- 
ally observed, and a precisely similar condition is notice- 
able in the moral realm. Here comes in the immutabil- 
ity of natural law. A law has been violated, and the 
penalty must be paid. " I am a jealous God," is heard 
reechoing along the walls of the eternity of the past. " I 
visit the sins of the fathers upon the children, unto the 
third and fourth generation." Is this a direful curse upon 
the helpless unborn innocents? Can God be just and 
enforce such a rigid law ? I answer : " The law of the 
Lord is pure and righteous altogether." 

The law was made for the happiness and advance- 
ment of mankind. If we obey those laws, happy are 
we ; but if we ignore, disregard and violate these laws, 
then there remains "nothing but a fearful looking-for 
of judgment and fiery indignation." And thus we visit 
this punishment upon our children by violating God's 
law. The parent violates this law by sexual indulgence 



42 ilASTCKBATIOX OF BOYS AXD GIRL?. 

during gestation, the child of lust becomes a masturbator. 
the masturbator becomes a murderer and dies in iomo- 
miny. 

I was acquainted with a young man, a very few years 
ago, and will give my readers his history, for it is brief. 
He was a voting man of about twentv-one vears of ag-e, 
when I first knew him. He apparently had more than 
the ordinary chances of succeeding in life, but, within a 
year of the time I first met him, he was doomed to pay 
the extreme penalty for the perpetration of one of the 
most atrocious murders I have ever read of in the annals 
of crime — that of murdering his father and his beautiful 
little sister just budding into lovely womanhood, at the 
tender age of fourteen years, which crime he perpetrated 
with an ax. He had been married to an estimable lady 
for a little more than one year, and at his trial she, his 
wife, urged in palliation of his crime that he was a mas- 
turbator. and had often been guilty of defiling the mar- 
riage bed, even by her side, by that loathsome practice 
of masturbation. 

Who will dare to deny that the abuses perpetrated 
upon that criminal without his own consent, and during 
uterine development, were largely responsible for his 
endowment with those proclivities of self-abuse and pol- 
lution which wrecked his young life and sent him to a 
felons disgraceful tomb with the blood of a father and 
sister upon his soul? Ah! who can tell, or who will 
deny, that the curse came back upon the father for the 
abuses perpetrated upon Ms son before he was born? 
Though we may deny these charges, yet these facts 
exist : hence, the sooner the victim awakes to a conscious- 



MASTURBATION OF BOYS AND GIRLS. 43 

ness of his peril, the greater chance is preserved for his 
escape; for though death is generally an unwelcome 
guest, yet death is preferable to a life of drooling idiocy. 
There are a variety of methods of self-pollution, all con- 
verging toward one common end, and while one current 
may carry the victim down to ruin faster than others, yet 
the practice of many of them is beneath the dignity of the 
brute, and is ultimate shipwreck, loss and ruin upon the 
black and seething waters of dark, deep and eternal de- 
spair. We would gladly turn aside and occupy the 




WHAT THE BOY MAY BECOME. 

thoughts upon a more congenial subject, but a sense of 
duty impels us on to tear the mask from this hideous 
monster. 

Parents and guardians, let me urge you in the name of 
the rising generation to awake. The health of your chil- 
dren is not only jeopardized, but their lives are menaced 
by a galling bondage and a fearful death. Father, would 
you save that boy ? Mother, are you alive to the inter- 
ests of your daughters ? If you are, watch over their 



44 



MASTURBATION OF BOYS AND GIRLS. 



habits during the approach of puberty with jealous eyes,, 
and indignantly frown upon the first dawning of an at- 
tempt to deflect their young lives toward improper chan- 
nels ; for at this time children become revolutionized, in 
thought and sentiment, and it is not only a crisis, but may 
be appropriately called the great crisis ; for through the in- 
fluence of this change character is molded and habits de- 
termined. Prevention is better than cure. Therefore the 
most auspicious and supreme moment for action is before 
the wolf reaches the lamb. 

The scope of this work prevents an elaborate discus- 
sion of the means made use of for conducting children in 
safety through this critical period. I prefer to let parents 
and guardians act upon the suggestions of common sense, 
and will only add that it is a folly to insist that corporal 
punishment will prove an effective factor in curing the pa- 
tient after the habit is established. No sane person would 
attempt to cure this habit without kindness and sympathy 
any sooner than they would attempt to cure a child with 
punishment who was suffering with diphtheria or typhoid 
fever. 

Let the dignity of reason govern any attempt to rescue 
from sin and uncleanliness, while we pray that this work 
may come as an angel of mercy to many wanderers from 
the path of virtue. 




CHAPTEE VIII. 




SEXUAL PROMISCUITY. 

ENTLY we raise the curtain, and as we pro- 
ceed with this work we desire to ever keep 
before the mind of our readers this fact, that 
one law broken is the cause of many crimes. 
The Word of God says, "By the disobedience 
of one, many were made sinners." 

A small leakage in a large ship will soon 
result in its total loss beneath the angry waves ; 
so the abuses referred to in former pages of 
this work are the direct cause of this moral 
taint ; and with an irresistible pressure brought to bear 
upon him in the weakness of youthful inexperience (which 
amounts almost to a fatality), the victim yields himself up 
to those desires in early life, and finally becomes a gay 
Lothario or a confirmed libertine. Sexual promiscuity is 
a form of vice especially applicable to adulthood, which 
we term sexual promiscuity, or what is known under the 
familiar name of prostitution. It is a crime so flagrant 
and far-reaching in its results that we fain would close 
our eyes and cease our warfare. 

We would gladly evade the subject and dwell upon 

45 



46 SEXUAL PROMISCUITY. 

one more in harmony with natural laws, but a knowledge 
of its evils urge us on to lay before our readers the bane- 
ful influence it exerts over its victims. I cannot more 
fittingly characterize it than to quote the words of a dis- 
tinguished clergyman, who in a recent discourse, among 
other things, said: "When King Solomon spake his 
righteous admonitions to the young men of Jerusalem, 
he found the same vice which dwells in the modern city, 
and his warning took words that may sound with emi- 
nent fitness in the ears of the young men of today. The 
same sins were there — intemperance, dishonesty, gaming, 
lust. The same temptations — pleasure, the whirl of 
gaiety, the sparkling wine, the congenial atmosphere 
of fast life, and the gilded palace of the strange woman. 
With the same results — broken health, broken mind, 
squandered fortunes and a lost soul. 

"Life is always the same. The flesh is always ready 
to sin ; and these words of warning sweep in their eter- 
nal fitness through all the years life dwells in the flesh. 
When we come to speak of the clutch the devil has upon 
life through the impurity of the flesh, I know I am near- 
er the beginning than the end of ruin, for my thoughts 
touch not alone the final open libertinism and hilarity of 
the city's polluted life, but sweeps back to those begin- 
nings of evil, when by the lust of the flesh and its awful 
grasp upon life, all things most true and holy are invaded, 
stained and ruined, home ties are sundered, honor 
tainted, hearts broken, lights darkened, life here and eter- 
nally destroyed. It is in keeping with these words of 
warning that we touch upon many of the shapes in which 
the flesh becomes a snare to the soul. There is no subject 



SEXUAL PROMISCUITY. 47 

so avoided and shunned, so little spoken of. It may be 
wise to make it thus obscure in its own wickedness, but 
its power grows mighty with the very secrecy of its 
growth ; and because it is a vice under ground, its hold 
becomes more overwhelming by the very lack of combat ; 
nor can these facts escape unnoticed, that it is a growing 
evil in our American life. While there have always been 
haunts where, with gay-decked chambers, lust has minis- 
tered to hell, yet the evil grows rapidly, and spreads its 
power, and weaves its snares, and breathes its withering, 
blasting, pestilential breath full in the face of the fairest 
and most beautiful of God's handiwork. Yice jostles 
against virtue with impunity upon the crowded city's 
thoroughfares. In 1868 the most reliable statistics pro- 
curable discovered over six hundred dens of infamy in 
New York City. 

" Today there are more than twelve hundred, despite 
the vigilant and ceaseless endeavors of the societies for 
the prevention of vice. It is easy enough to overestimate 
in making account of what we deem evil and censurable. 
The smallest vice is bad enough. But let the observing 
note as he walks along the night-shaded streets, that often 
a gliding form will start from the darkness of some hall- 
way, moving constantly, here, there and everywhere, in 
search of prey. Thousands of these gilded temptations 
come from the higher walks of life, lured on toward the en- 
gulfing vortex by the designing libertine. Once she was 
the child of luxury and ease, now the homeless pauper ; 
once the pride of a fond and doting father, the fairest 
blossom of the household of wealth and affluence, now the 
poor outcast Magdalen of this great Babylon of the "West. 



48 SEXUAL PROMISCUITY. 

" It is estimated that the city of Chicago alone con- 
tains thirty thousand women of corrupt morals, and more 
than sixty thousand men of questionable reputation. 
Prostitution is not a vice, but the result of a vice, and our 
minds must go back to face this truth, that iniquity 
begins not in the haunts of sin, but in the loss of spiritual 
supremacy. It is the triumph of the animal passions 
which makes such a vice possible — cause and effect are 
closely joined — this scarlet sin has always thrown its 
chains around the neck of each successive civilization, 
and with slow, creeping step the stealthy giant has, time 
and again, gripped the throat, undermined the strength 
and destroyed the fabric of empires and, civilizations 
mighty in power. In individual or nation its course is 
always the same, and quickly run. It leads down to decay 
and death, in all concerns of state, of culture, or of life, 
and saps the life blood where it fastens its hold. I have 
no time for any historical resume, save that I point you 
to France and Koine's decline again and again. I desire 
rather to turn to that public sin, that strange phenomenon 
of life which makes merchandise of shame while it spreads 
its snares throughout our city and traps its victims un- 
numbered, for hell. 

" It is a mysterious phase of life that can so destroy 
virtue and modesty and that sensitive reticence which is 
the glory and beauty of woman, as to make her flaunt 
forth unblushingly the garments of her shame. Beauty is 
a snare to woman, and a dangerous gift. A fair face 
and faultless figure is often the cause of her social ruin. 
For a castle besieged on every hand is sure to fall. 

" But if she fall she may rise again, and from the ranks 



SEXUAL PROMISCUITY. 49 

of the fallen ones have and will yet come noble women 
to bless the world by pointing out to those of her sex 
who shall come after her the stepping-stone to her own 
degradation and disgrace. By saying to the unwary, 
Beware, for yonder in thy untrodden path are breakers, 
and the vortex is just before you, covered with foam- 
wreathed surges, woman should be the saviour of her 

sex by pointing out to the inexperienced the dangerous 
ground over which they themselves have passed, and by 
reiterating the gipsy's warning : 

' Gentle maiden, do not trust him, 
Though his voice be low and sweet,' 

For as a consequence of blindly trusting, — 

Maiden, in the green grave yonder 
Lies the gipsy's only child ! ' 

Let some redeemed but once erring woman reach out 
the friendly hand and raise the fallen, and extend sym- 
pathy to those erring ones, for we believe that, — 

' Woman in her deepest degradation 
Holds something sacred, something undefiled, 
Some pledge and keepsake of her higher nature ; 
And, like the diamond in the dark, retains 
Some quenchless gleams of the celestial light.' " 




CHAPTER IX. 




MAX'S RESPONSIBILITY. 

One more unfortunate, 

Weary of breath, 
Rashly importunate, 

Gone to her death ! 
— Hood 

|T seems so natural for us to shirk the responsi- 
bility of our crimes upon others that we for- 
get that we are mortal and liable to err. Since 
the first act of wrong doing and disobedience 
in Eden, men have said so often, The woman 
did it, that they seem to have forgotten they 
have any responsibility or complicity or share 
in sin. In searching the various statistical 
reports for the desired information relative to 
the subject under consideration, I find from 
the most reliable sources that not more than 
one in twenty of the girls who enter the por- 
tals of a life of shame come from choice. 
Xow and again one drawn by the apparent glitter, 
frivolity and gain come and give themselves up, but the 
rule is the other way. By far the greater number enter 
through the door opened to them by deceit and base 
betrayal; yielding in the extremity of love all dearest 

50 




man's responsibility. f>l 

and most precious to her life, she finds herself basely 
betrayed and mined. 

What shall she do ? Society, all smiles and welcome 
for her betrayer, lifts its si liven robes lest they touch her 
pollution. The heart of Christian kindness is deaf to her 
piteous wail of agony. The church, forgetting its Master, 
has no word of pity or look of sympathy for the Magda- 
len. In all this wide world there is none to render the 
fallen any assistance, none to hold out the golden scepter 
of pardon to the w T eeping, repentant daughter of folly. 
None to say, O ! ye that mourn and weep, " let glad- 
ness mingle with those tears," for yonder see the star of 
hope still lingers above the horizon of thy despair. Re- 
morse and shame lead toward death, but life shrinks from 
the terrible blackness of suicide. 

Every avenue in life seems closed to her. She cannot 
return to her childhood's home that is lost to her, for she 
has too high an appreciation of virtue and too much honor 
left to brand her brothers and sisters with her shame. 
But the path is easy to reach which leads away over the 
fields of sin ; and yonder a hand beckons, and the tempter 
smiles and the path looks flowery and they follow on, 
and so the struggle is brief ; remorse is smothered, peni- 
tence cast aside and the spirit, locked away in darkness 
and despair, is dragged forth and forced to join in revelry 
and dissipation to drown all recollections of the past, 
while the sorrowing, aching heart is breaking all the 
while. To those women there come hours of agony be- 
yond the power of language to describe, moments when 
the remembrance of happy, pure and holy days comes like 
the haunting dream of a disturbed slumber. Then the 



52 man's responsibility. 

happy scenes and holy associations of the home of their 
childhood pass in review before the mind. The moon- 
light is falling' like a silvery bridal veil over the home of 
her childhood as at a late horn 1 she steps from the train 
upon the platform in the little city where her early happy 
days were spent. The clear, crystal crescent, in a purple 
sky is shimmering over the palatial home of her youth, 
gilded gondolas flit like voiceless shadows to and fro upon 
the smooth surface of the translucent waters of the bay. 
And the tall church spires stand like grim sentinels to 
guard the resting place of her ancestors and cast their 
taper shadows across the dewy lawn, as this waif of 
society treads for a few brief moments once more the 
deserted, echoing streets of the city of her nativity. 
Ah ! this is the dear old church where I used to join 
with dear ones to worship God ere the wily temp- 
ter came to me with those honeyed words. Yon- 
der is the dear old home with ivied gables where 
I once was pure and happy. 'What tender memories clus- 
ter around that place, for there my mother taught me 
with folded hands and upturned eyes to repeat in childish 
voice, the '\X"ow I lay me down to sleep." She draws nearer 
still to the open casement and hears from within a voice 
in feeble accents commending the household to the watch- 
ful care of that All-seeing Eye that never slumbers. It is 
the voice of her aged father, and hark ! Was that her 
name she hears spoken ? She cannot mistake that voice, 
while in agony he commends the erring wandering one to 
the fatherly care of the God of love. She can bear no 
more, and with streaming eves and bleeding heart she 
turns again to the great city, and in dissipation drowns 



man's responsibility. 53 

and stifles those feelings of the heart which had well nigh 
saved her from the cruel grasp of vice and a life of shame. 

At such hours, so terrible is the grief and com- 
punction that only force can restrain the victim from the 
rash act of rushing unbidden into eternity, and seeking 
rest in the oblivion of the grave. It comes to this event- 
ually, a few years remorse is drowned; the glass of 
liquor, the dose of opium, the draught of chloral, affords 
temporary relief from thoughts that burn into the brain, 
and kill or torture the soul. But when consciousness 
returns life is crowded forth again into its abandon, until 
the mind, broken, shattered and enfeebled by drink and 
drug, is powerless to resist, and death is grasped unshrink- 
ingly as a release. 

And back at the feet of the man who opened the door 
to her prostitution and disgrace, lies forever in the sight 
of God, the blood oi the victim of his treachery and de- 
ceit, and He who has said, " Vengeance is mine, I will 
repay" will pour out the vials of His wrath, will hurl the 
retributive thunderbolts of divine indignation upon his 
guilty head. 

A great many come into this vice under the pressure 
of circumstances so near a fatality that many a woman, 
though possessed of ordinary fortitude and courage, fails 
to face it with successful resistance. A single instance 
will illustrate my meaning : 

Some time since a young girl, left alone in the world, 
came to this city seeking employment. Fortunately she 
had a friend in the city, and to that friend she owes 
today her salvation. She went to a leading store in this 
city for a situation, and upon application was accepted 



54 man's responsibility. 

upon trial. A week passed, and after the close of busi- 
ness she went before the manager of the house, and was 
accepted and assigned a position, and imagined herself 
fortunate. But when another week had closed she was 
pained to find her salary utterly inadequate for her neces- 
sary expenses. She went again to this manager, to ask 
an increase of salary, there to be met by a laugh and a 
jest, and a deliberate offer of the wages of sin and shame. 
God knows this man, above the guise of his gay attire 
and polished air, and in the eternity of the kingdom to 
come, sheol will be a paradise compared to the reward 
God will bestow upon him who could thus deliberately 
plan the ruin of an innocent life. 

There is this peculiar characteristic connected with 
this vice and its mission work, i. e., it is unpromising 
mission ground. Prevention is the only remedy at pres- 
ent which gives much promise. In the first place it is 
neglected ground. The churches are generally more con- 
tent to labor for Zanzibar and Timbuctoo than to attempt 
any labor for the fallen of our own city. It is recorded 
by those who have been longest in the work that few who 
enter these gates ever return, first because they have no 
encouragement to return. For what have they to return 
to? They can never in the eyes of the world wash out the 
red letter of their guilt. You would not let them enter 
your door if you knew from whence they came or who 
they are. You have no employment for them, and noth- 
ing for them save, perhaps, a fling of charity, and they 
who come back from the chambers of dissipation repent- 
ant, come to meet cold faces and endure an isolated life 
of toil and menial labor. 



man's responsibility. 55 

But Christ our Saviour did not so, but with His great 
heart full of love and mercy, said: "Neither do I con- 
demn thee. Go, and sin no more." In reformation God 
pity the repentant erring one, but in prevention, which 
shall remedy both the fall and its results, there are 
duties that I shall lay upon you, as lovers of the 
pure and good. First of all, I demand of you that 
you cry out with a loud voice against the scorching 
edict of society, which brands the shrinking woman 
and spares the guiltier man. I want to lift nine parts 
of the guilt and sin and shame from the head of the 
fallen woman, and hurl it crushing in its weight upon 
the man who conspired for her fall. "* 

Society is full of these men, animals devoid of heart 
and conscience. Years and gray hairs often boast (like 
Aaron Burr of defamed memory) the histories of their 
amours. Young men, luxurious in inherited wealth and 
indolence, seek adventures with all the eagerness of ro- 
mance because society scornfully crowds from their door- 
step the girl who falls, and then laughs in its sleeve at the 
cunning of the rake who compassed her ruin. He is event- 
ually received back to the bosom of society, all the more 
a hero for his sin. 

This is no ill charge. Your select society is full of 
such men, young men, middle-aged men and men of ad- 
vanced years, whose lives are corrupt, whom all know are 
breaking every law of virtue and purity. They arc known 
to be fast, dissipated and immoral, and yet they walk with 
head erect, and unabashed, unchecked and unbanished for 
their filthiness. I have no plea for the abandoned or her 
sin. She merits by her fault Tier punishment. But if you 



5<J man's responsibility. 

must be just to her, be just also to him whose guilt is 
greater. In the name of purity, in the name of wonian- 
hood, by the holy ashes of your sainted mothers, and in 
the name of God, I adjure you, ye women of our happy 
homes, that you cry out with a cry that shall shake the 
earth, against the man who bears the trace of iniquity. 
Banish with an unalterable edict not only the man who 
boasts of his villainy and sin, but the man whose life has a 
stain of dishonor. 

As an example of the injustice done by society and the 
world I refer my readers to the Zora Burxs case, of Lin- 
coln, ILL, in 18SL who was seduced by a designing wretch 
and brutally murdered, while her murderer is free, no 
doubt seeking out some other victim. 

Let the burden of sin rest where it is due, and if the 
dissolute and unfortunate woman must crouch without 
the pale of social toleration, drive to her companionship 
the man who opened for her the gates of ruin, or who 
seeks her in her gilded halls of death. * 

I close by warning the virtuous to beware of the man- 
traps of the city ; from dangers on the streets ; from the 
tiger and his den ; from cups of flame. From the first 
steps of vice, from the chambers of death I warn you 
back. For yonder on the shining gates of endless day, 
whose glories stream out toward our life, a weary 
world looks forward in its hope, and on whose arch 
through which we pass at last to rest in peace, there is 
written a warning. Write it, I beseech you, upon the 
pahns of your hands, that it may warn you at every step 
in this life of snares and sin, for " without are dogs, and 



MAN S RESPONSIBILITY. 



57 



sorcerers, and whore-mongers, and murderers, and idol- 
aters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie." 

These are bold and terrible words, yet they fitly por- 
tray the heinousness of lust, and the merciless pangs 
which follow its acceptance. But 

Hope springs eternal in the human breast; 
Man never is, but always to be blest. 
The soul, uneasy, and confined from home, 
Rests and expatiates in the life to come. — Pope. 





CHAPTEK X. 



ABORTION. 

O boatman, cease thy mellow song, 

O, minstrel, drop thy lyre ; 
Let us hear the voice of the midnight sea, 

Let us speak as the waves inspire. 

— Bayard Taylor. 

OME duties are pleasant ones to perform, and 
fraught with joy and happiness. Over other 
duties hangs, as it were, a pall ; yet it is still a 
duty we must discharge. This is a gloomy 
theme, and the dark plume of the angel of death 
seems to loom up between us and the subject 
under consideration, and casts a shadow like 
the yew tree's shade over the mind, envelop- 
ing in its ebon folds the entire realm of 
thought. Yerily this is a cypress and yew-tree 
subject. Therefore we shall deal with it briefly, and 
speak according to the inspiration within us. Every 
right-thinking individual who believes in the ultimate 
triumph of right, through the elevation of our race by 
the observance of natural law, and thereby the utter abo- 
lition of evil, will join me in denouncing this unnatural 
practice as one of the greatest crimes of this present fast 

58 




ABORTION. 5',) 

age of the world, and the depopulation of this great 
republic of Americans, and the utter extinction of the 
blood of our pilgrim fathers, in the restriction of the 
number of American-born children of American blood, 
and the permanent transplanting of people of a foreign 
tongue in this our free American soil. Who can contem- 
plate for one moment the great influx of foreign element 
into this already cosmopolitan country, without appre- 
hensions of the final extinction of the American people ? 

The Hon. John O'Bryne once remarked, " within the 
old state house sat the continental congress ; its story is 
too well known to need repetition. Today, in the same 
city, the greatest congress of the nations ever before as- 
sembled holds high council. It is not a congress of a 
race, or a nation ; it is the gathering together of all the 
tribes and peoples whom God scattered upon the plains of 
Shinar for the impious defiance of His mighty power." 

Abortion has assumed proportions, within the past cent- 
ury that are absolutely appalling, and the tendency is still in- 
creasing as the years come. Especially is this true among 
American women. So fearful is the waste of human life 
among this class that we are rapidly becoming extinct. 
The average woman is averse to raising children, and she 
consoles herself with the thought that she has done her duty 
in this direction if she suffers one to live, and she will not 
hesitate to fly in the very face of death to cut short the 
fruit of her womb. The cares of maternity come to them 
as unwelcome cares, and they fail to recognize in the holy 
relation of mother any duty they owe to the world and 
society. Often the family physician is urged, begged and 
entreated, and if these solicitations fail to win his help the 



60 ABORTION 

withdrawal of family patronage is threatened generally 
as a lever to induce him to assist her in removing the ob- 
ject of her solicitude. I will relate a single case as an 
illustration of the temptations every physician of consid- 
erable practice is obliged to meet. A married woman 
with a child twelve months old outlined her case to an 
M. D., a friend of the writer, as follows : " I have recently 
been confined ; at my marriage I was in the enjoyment of 
excellent health, but from the moment of conception my 
health commenced failing, and before pregnancy was com- 
pleted I suffered more than words can express. Finally I 
was given up to die while undergoing childbirth. How- 
ever, a merciful Providence, supplemented by a skillful 
physician, saved my life, and here I am again pregnant, 
and must pass nine months of toilsome pain and solici- 
tude to meet death at the birth of my child. I know that 
you are opposed to any interference with what I have 
come to ask at your hands, but God knows I cannot en- 
dure a second time the sufferings I have borne, and be- 
lieving my case is an exceptional one and justifies the re- 
lief asked for, in the name of sympathy and true friend- 
ship, come to my rescue." 

These words were delivered in a dignified, calm and 
quiet manner, born of desperation. At the conclusion her 
self-control and womanly reticence were supplemented by 
a burst of emotional utterances. 

The husband sat near the lady during this recital, an 
object of respect and pity, and while he said less in sup^ 
porting the argument and claims of his wife, yet they 
were potential appeals, for they involved robust financial 
considerations alone sufficient to direct many a well mean- 



ABORTION. 61 

ing man from the path of forbearance. In consideration 
of the awful desperation and piteous appeal of a woman 
in despair, is it wonderful that this crime, for crime it is — 
except to save the life of the mother whose life is of par- 
amount importance to the child — is extending its tenta- 
cles toward the throat of civilization ? 

Good God ! Can nothing be done to stop this wholesale 
butchery of human innocents 1 Must our race go down to 
ruin and death as a result of this sickening vice % Can 
nothing be done to check the tide of destruction and pre- 
vent the assassination of millions of unborn children, and 
save from extinction this American people ? It is time 
that every community go out of the lap-dog business and 
raise their legitimate number of children. For this 
abomination of desolation standing where it ought not, 
is breeding all the symptoms of a race retrograding in 
civilization. In many a household in this land of the free 
the fountains which should gush at the sound of the holy 
names of God and mother are dried up, and instead of those 
households being led through green pastures of content 
and beside the still waters of the soul, they are walking 
through " dry places, seeking rest and finding none." 

The pale, wan, sallow and sickly visages of wives and 
mothers which meet us at every angle of our streets and 
thoroughfares, proclaim in thunder tones that a law has 
been violated, but not with impunity. In many homes a 
poor, sickly, suffering, dying or idiotic child may be 
seen as the direct result of an unsuccessful attempt at 
its assassination with poisonous drugs while in the narrow 
chamber of the mother's womb. What a penalty that 
mother is paying daily, as she gazes into those plead- 



62 



ABORTION. 



im eves, and its moan of agony is wafted to that 
mother's ear on every breeze ! Oh. God ! What a 
penalty for a violated law of nature ! And what suffer- 
ing is entailed upon that innocent child for no sin of its 
own. Here again through the immutability of natural 
law the parents visit or entail the terrible consequences of 
their sin upon their helpless, innocent children. Would 
to God that the tri-colored flag which floats so proudly 
from the citadel of this free country could extend a more 
perfect protection to unborn children : that nations yet 
unborn may find their safety in the ample folds of our 
grand old flag and receive a legacy of light and hope 
streaming down from every star upon our glorious ban- 
ner. 

God of the free, our nation bless 
In its strong manhood as its birth, 

And make its life a star of hope 
For all the struggling of the earth. 

— W. R. Wallace. 




m¥ 



CHAPTER XI. 



PREVENTION. 




Speak, pilot of the storm-tos't bark ! 

May I thy peril share ? 
O, landsman, these are fearful seas 

The brave alone may dare ! 

—0 W. H. 

HE above lines by Holmes suggest to my 
mind humanity as ships upon a stormy sea, 
where sunken rocks and dangerous reefs lie 
all around, upon which many a noble vessel 
has been stranded, and I involuntarily exclaim, 
God help them and their crew ! And while 
considering very briefly this subject I shall 
aim not to get into too deep water myself, but mod- 
estly endeavor to show the misled that they are indeed 
nearing a dangerous coast, and hoping that a knowl- 
edge of some of those social evils may result in their 
abandonment before they approach too near the awful 
vortex. 

While my views upon this subject may not be as or- 
thodox as some, yet I have this consolation, that I am 
conscientious in my convictions relative to this matter, 
and earnestly desire to sow no seed except that which 
may germinate and flourish in the elevation of mankind 



64 



PREVENTION, 



and in the interests of a common humanity. A large ma- 
jority want a preventive ; something which will render 
their wives exempt from pregnancy, and thereby excuse 
them from the unwelcome cares of maternity. Every 
species of argument is used to bias their physician in fa- 
vor of this idea, and judging from an extended observation 
I am led to believe that any woman who would use any 




means to prevent pregnancy would not hesitate a great 
while or be over-scrupulous about procuring abortion. 
Hence if a wife is irrevocably opposed to bearing children 
it is much the best course to pursue, as prevention is bet- 
ter than crime. Some writers upon this subject hold that 
it is a crime to even prevent conception. And while I 
shall not enter into the domain of discussion upon this 



PREVENTION. 65 

subject, I cannot forbear saying that in my humble judg- 
ment it is much better that a woman never become 
pregnant than to become an unwilling mother. Therefore 
I insist that in such a case prevention is the only rational 
solution to this important question. The only safe and 
honorable way of prevention in my opinion is continence. 
Many of the methods used as a preventive are ineffect- 
ual and injurious to the persons using them. 

There is one way which if observed will render the 
parties observing it entirely free from the possibility 
of becoming pregnant, and is not attended with 
dangerous results — I repeat continence. But the 
masses are not willing to deny themselves the pleasure 
of intercourse, hence they are seeking after something 
that will meet the demand without proscribing them 
in their desires. The abuses practiced by many for 
the abridgement of family generally result in an 
expensive experiment, for as the direct result of these 
practices can be traced many of the most intractable 
varieties of leucorrhcea (whites) and displacements of 
the womb, also ovarian irritability of a chronic type 
which yields if at all with great reluctance to reme- 
dial agencies. There is an abuse practiced largely at 
present known as onanism which is worse than 
beastly and degrading in its tendencies, and consists in 
the removal of the male member from the female, just 
before the seminal fluid is ejaculated ; and while this 
places a bar to pregnancy, it is only another form 
of masturbation, and if persistently followed, will 
cause a train of symptoms only a shade less severe 
than if the act were performed without the presence 



66 PREVENTION. 

of the female. It is a common notion that a woman 

xempt from pregnancy if she allows eight or 
days to elapse after her monthly now until just 
before the succeeding period. This idea is founded 
upon ignorance, and is very liable to disappoint many 
who may use it as a safeguard. Thousands of women 
have ruined health and morals, entailing suffering and 
disease upon their posterity as the direct result of 
trying the many methods of prevention, and we can 
scarcely find one woman who places implicit confi- 
dence in any of them, which is quite sufficient to prove 
that their practice is attended with injury to the 
health and an ultimate failure. 

Any of the enumerated abuses herein described are 
an insult to our intelligent man and womanhood, mor- 
ally, physically and socially wrong. Any departure 
from the teachings of nature's law is debasing, and brut- 
ifies the manhood of the perpetrators of the crime. 
And the God of nature will demand the penalty for 
every violation. May this principle rank high anions 
the eternal verities of truth and justice. 




^am-li 



CHAPTER XII. 




THE CHANGES OF LIFE. 




T is our intention briefly to treat this subject 
in an extemporaneous manner, making the 
comparisons as they occur to the mind, giving 
it as a text to the thoughtful, leaving them at 
liberty to draw their own conclusions relative 
to the truthfulness or absurdity of its analogy 
to human life and its changes, closing with 
some general hints regarding the culture and 
care of children, also some knowledge neces- 
sary to be inculcated in order to guide chil- 
dren in safety past those shoals and quicksands 
of youthful indiscretion, where so many young- 
lives become ruined, and drift dismantled 

wrecks, along the shores of time, to be engulfed in the dark 
ocean of eternal despair. The four seasons represent to my 
mind the four stages of human life. First we have the 
infant spring with its clouds and sunshine, like the tears 
and smiles of childhood, chasing each other in quick succes- 
sion. The puberty of the season is indicated by growth 
and bud and blossom and hope, then the husbandman 
sows the seed into the fertile soil, with promise of an 

abundant harvest. Autumn is the labor season. Mature, 

67 




68 THE CHANGES OF EIFE. 

pregnant with priceless blessings for mankind, is groan- 
ing to be delivered. The luscious ripened fruit hangs 
pendent from the bending branches in the golden glory 
of the September sun. the yellow harvest is garnered in 
when nature shows symptoms of decay indexed by frost 
and the sere and withered leaf, but cruel blustering 
winter comes at last and shuts the scene, which indicates 
the end of human life. 

Leaves have their time to fall, 

And flowers to "wither at the north wind's breath, 
And stars to set, but all thou hast, 

All seasons for thine own, O death! 

— Mrs. F. Hema 

When a child has made its advent upon this mun- 
dane sphere, he or she has embarked upon a perilous 
voyage. A voyage which may ultimately end in ship- 
wreck and ruin, or thev mav serenelv Hide along- the 
flower-embossed banks of earthly life, under fair skies 
wafted by gentle zephyrs, toward the haven until in the 
distance, as life's sun is setting, the domes and minarets 
of the eternal city burst in full glory upon their enrap- 
tured vision and glitter in the pure radiance of unending 
day. It all depends upon the early training and culture 
of the child. For hear the word of God declaring. 
" Train up a child in the way he should go. and when he 
is old he will not depart from it." 

What a declaration to fall upon the ear of parents and 
guardians ! It is either your acquittal, or your condemna- 
tion before the bar of your own conscience : your con- 
science will either applaud you with Well done, or brand 
you with criminal neglect of those committed to your 



THE CHANGES OF LIFE. 69 

care. No parent should administer castigation or pun- 
ishment to a child when they are angered by the child's 
disobedience. . Do not deport yourself toward your child 
in such a manner that it will feel that you are getting 
revenge upon it by virtue of your superior brute force. 
Let kindness and a sense of duty govern you in all your 
dealings with your children. "No chastisement for the 
present is joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless it bringeth 
the peaceable fruits of righteousness unto them who 
are exercised thereby." 

Furthermore to fathers and mothers I wish to say, at 
a proper age, tell your sons and daughters all about 
themselves, and watch and warn them against self-abuse 
at the period of puberty, for at this stage of life they cross 
the threshold of childhood and enter the realm of respon- 
sible activity. It is at this period that the hitherto sex- 
less being receives a new impetus in life, upward and 
onward, or backward and downward, for until puberty 
arrives the tendencies are generally dormant. 

This epoch is accompanied with a change in the char- 
acter of the individual which amounts to a revolution, 
and in passing this crisis the majority are led near 
enough the vortex of ruin to hear the roar of the seething 
foam- wreathed surges which threaten to engulf them at 
every step, and in after life they are made to shudder at 
so narrow an escape from a habit which, if persevered 
in, is a living death. For this awful habit consumes both 
mind and body unless abandoned before its anaconda 
grasp defies remedial measures. 

We will now dwell briefly upon the subject known 
commonly as the change of life in women. It is known 



70 THE CHANGES OF LIFE. 

to physicians by the name of menopause, which is the 
scientific name and indicates the period of the cessation 
of the menses or the monthly flow. At a certain age 
woman lays aside those functions with which she has 
been endowed for the perpetuation of her species, and 
resumes once more that exclusively individual life which 
had been hers when a child. The evening of her days 
approaches, and if she has observed the laws of her 
nature and been guided by the precepts of wisdom, she 
may look forward to a long and placid season of rest, 
blessed with health and honor, and even loved with a 
purer flame than she ever inspired in the bloom of 
youth and beauty. When this season arrives, the ovaries 
have ceased to furnish any more ova or eggs, conse- 
quently the woman is incapable of bearing any more 
children. The age at which this epoch or crisis occurs, 
varies, extending over a radius of twenty years. To be 
lucid on this point, I wish to be understood to say that 
some women have passed the change as early as thirty 
years, while others retain the functions of reproduction 
until the ripe age of fifty years ; but the majority pass 
the rubicon between the age of forty and forty-seven. 
It is a well authenticated fact that in exceptional cases, 
healthy women have been known to have passed this 
epoch at twenty-eight years. There is a marked physical 
change apparent at this era, which is a tendency to be- 
come corpulent, and as this increase in flesh proceeds, the 
power of reproduction decreases. 

In many cases of change of life where the system is 
normally balanced, and the patient has not been guilty of 
a systematic violation of the fundamental laws of health 



THE CHANGES OF LIFE. 71 

through sexual excesses, the change comes on so gradually 
that the nervous system accommodates itself to the new 
methods of the system so that no shock is experienced to 
disturb the general circulation. In these mild cases the 
intervals between the periods become prolonged and 
irregular, with a diminishing in quantity of the menstrual 
flow. "When this new order of things is once established 
and this change is safely passed, the woman may be said 
to have a new lease, and a stronger hold on life, and out- 
side of accidents can confidently look forward to old age, 
to three-score years and ten, or until the complicated ma- 
chinery of the body is worn out, and the weary wheels 
of life stand still. 

The symptoms of the approach of this change vary 
according to their temperaments, and also according as 
the patient has lived in accordance with, and kept invio- 
late the laws of nature, for every violated law requires 
and demands the payment of the forfeit or penalty. The 
law of nature is the law of health. The law of nat- 
ure is then the law of happiness. Therefore, this law is 
the law of God. " For the law is holy, and the command- 
ments holy, just and good." 

It is gratifying to think that the violations of many 
of the laws of nature, and the perpetration of many of 
the abuses in life, are the result of ignorance and inexperi- 
ence, and that a knowledge of these abuses and their ter- 
rible consequences, will be all that is necessary to extermi- 
nate these evils, with their degrading influence, from soci- 
ety. And this hope stimulates us to lay before the gen- 
eral public, and the young in particular, this work, and 
with an honest desire to be of service to mankind, we 



■2 



THE CHANGES OF LIFE. 



may feel that we have taken one step in the right direc- 
tion, and leaving footprints on the shores of time, point- 
ing toward a higher plane, and nobler attainments for 
our race, we shall not have lived in vain, because — 

"Death takes us by surprise, 

And stays our hurrying feet ; 
The great design unfinished lies, 
Our lives are incomplete." 

— Longfellow. 




CHAPTER XIII. 




SIGNS OF PREGNANCY. 

HE suspension of the menses is one of the first 
indications which lead a woman to suspect 
that she is enciente; the determination, however, 
of pregnancy at a very early stage is a diffi- 
cult problem to solve, as it is possible for many 
of the same symptoms to exist from other causes. 
This first mentioned symptom carries very 
little weight with it without corroborative 
symptoms, particularly so if the woman has 
previously been irregular. Where the entire 
aosence of the menses exists for two or three months with- 
out any assignable cause, and attended with good health, 
the conclusion that conception has taken place may be 
considered Avell founded. Changes in the breasts very 
frequently occur: they sometimes feel heavy, and attended 
with an itching sensation, and the areola around the nipple 
becomes darker-colored, yet all of these combined symp- 
toms are not conclusive proof that pregnancy has actually 
taken place. Other indications may, and often do, 
occur in newly married women, viz,: itching of the sexual 

organs, which irritation often causes the suspension 

73 



74 SIGNS OF PBEG2JANCY. 

of the monthly flow when conception is not an established 
fact. So then this very strong combination of circum- 
stances cannot be relied upon as absolute proof. But 
morning sickness along with the before-mentioned symp- 
toms forms a very strong chain of circumstantial evidence 
upon which to convict the patient of being in a very 
interesting condition. It is none the less valuable as a 
diagnostic sign, because it is a morbid symptom, as it 
arises from sympathy of the solar plexus with the organic 
nervous system of the uterus. Morning nausea may 
occur immediately after gestation has commenced, but 
is sure to occur as early as the fifth or sixth week after 
conception has taken place. There are other derange- 
ments of the digestive organs likely to set in, such as 
heart-burn, inordinate longing for some particular kind of 
food. There are many other concomitant symptoms at- 
tending pregnancy which may become very distressing and 
ought never to be neglected Constipation almost always 
exists during gestation, causing a train of abnormal 
symptoms and a general feverish state of the nervous 
system. 

We wish to remark that this may be regarded as the 
most interesting period of a woman's life. She is now no 
longer acting solely for herself, but has become invested 
with a new and serious responsibility, and upon some of 
the most apparently trifling of her actions may depend 
the health and happiness of a being bound to her by the 
tenderest ties. Mothers who prefer the welfare of their 
future offspring to their own indulgence should pursue a 
course from which they will derive a double benefit, an 
improvement in their own health with partial exemption 



SIGNS OF PREGNANCY. 75 

from suffering, and the delight of seeing their children 
pass safely through the anxious period of infancy. 
Women who marry late in life incur considerable per- 
sonal risk and severe suffering in giving birth to children. 
I wish to be understood to differ from some authors, and 
in fact from all authors who state that it is possible for 
a woman to give birth to children without pain, except 
under the influence of powerful anaesthetics, for the great 
First Cause and Author of our being has ordained it other- 
wise, and emphatically stated that "In pain shalt thou bring 
forth children." Yet we believe that an obedience to the 
laws of nature will exempt all from unnecessary suffer- 
ing; while if we sin willingly against ourselves and the 
God of nature, there remains for us nothing but a " fear- 
ful looking for of judgment," for from this law there is 
absolutely no appeal. 

HEALTH IN PREGNANCY. 

Nature always does its work well when not thwarted 
by a violation of its laws. Woman is peculiarly adapted 
by nature to the conditions incident to pregnancy, and 
nature adopts every precaution for the preservation of her 
health during that period. In order that as much com- 
fort may be experienced as possible, and safety preserved, 
Ave advise that all irregular and intemperate habits be dis- 
continued. Cheerfulness and tranquility of mind are es- 
sential to insure the w T ell-being of both mother and child, as 
the education of the future being is commenced and materi- 
ally affected for weal or woe while yet in embryo by ex- 
cesses and indulgences. A liberal amount of sleep should 
be indulged in, but not slothfulness. Regular open-air ex- 
ercise should be taken daily by walking, which has a more 



76 SIGNS OF PREGNANCY. 

salutary effect upon the entire organism than carriage 
riding. 

CLOTHING DURING PREGNANCY 

Should conform to the season, with a view to comfort 
and convenience. However, she should be warmly clad in 
cold climates and inclement weather to preclude, if may be, 
the possibility of taking cold. Tight lacing is injurious 
at all times, and should in no degree be allowed during^ 
the commencement and completion of pregnancy, because 
it interferes with the natural and healthy action of those 
important organs so necessary to perform in a healthy 
manner the functions of their office, tending toward a safe 
and painless parturition. 

THE DIET 

Should be generous in meats, fruits and vegetables, 
but at the same time plain. Tea and coffee should be 
used with moderation. The drinking of beer and strong 
stimulants should be strictly avoided. 

PARTURITION. 

False pains sometimes precede the real labor pains 
days and even weeks before delivery. They differ from 
real labor pains chiefly in one respect, viz.: they are 
seldom felt in the back, but have their origin in the upper 
part of the uterus, and extend around the lower part of 
the abdomen. When the first pains make their appear- 
ance it is a source of great solicitude and uncertainty as 
to whether the pains are genuine or bogus, and until that 
is determined let the anxious, expectant mother remain 
dressed and as much as possible in a sitting position. But 
all things should be in readiness. The attending physi- 



SIGNS OF PREGNANCY. 77 

cian should be notified. The infant's linen bandages, 
some little strips of linen, scissors, some narrow tape or 
strings, pins, fresh lard, soap and warm water should be 
kept constantly on hand. 

If the pains come with regularity and increase, she 
may lie down, as the water may break at any moment, 
and a young woman who has never borne a child might 
take a fright at the suddenness of the occurrence, and 
should be warned of this event beforehand. E"o artificial 
means should be reported to in order to dilate the neck 
of the womb to hasten delivery. Nature will carry out 
and enforce her laws, and when the right time has come 
in natural labor the child will be ushered into this world 
with more safety to the mother than where artificial 
interference js used, except in abnormal conditions, all 
mechanical means being more hurtful than useful. 

ATTENTIONS AFTER LABOR. 

After the nurse has received the child, it is of the 
utmost importance to look to the welfare of the patient 
in the delivery of the placenta {after birth); for until 
it is expelled, and contraction of the womb takes place, 
there is a certain amount of danger from flooding. If it 
should not be outside the vulva a slight traction of the 
cord upward a little and forward will generally disen- 
gage and remove it. A bandage should then be placed 
in position and a soft, dry cloth should be applied to the 
^ulva. The patient should be put in a comfortable 
position, and both body and mind kept in a state of 
quietude. All strong odor of cooking from the kitchen 
should be excluded from the sick-room, also loud talking 



78 SIGNS OF PBEGNANCY. 

and strong light in the room should be avoided, and the 
apartment kept at a moderate temperature. 

TEEATMENT OF INFANTS. 

As soon as the child is born it should be wrapped in 
a soft, warm woolen cloth. The skin should be gently 
washed with warm, soft water and castile soap. While 
washing care should be taken to have the room warni, 
and not allow cold currents of air to strike the child, and 
it should be very gradually accustomed to the tempera- 
ture of the room while receiving its daily bath. After 
a child is weaned the proper time for its bath is in the 
morning, soon after being taken from its bed. 

The practice of bandaging and swathing the tender 
bodies of their infants, and loading them with a super- 
fluity of clothing, which presses upon their lower 
extremities, is frequently the cause of weakness and 
deformity in after life, and often causes rupture of both 
navel and groin. 

SUSPENDED ANIMATION. 

In many cases this arises from difficult parturition, 
pressure of the umbilical cord around the neck of the 
child, or natural debility arising from some scrofulous 
syphilitic taint of the parents, or from the aceuniula: 
of mucus in the nose and throat. It may occur from injury 
received from forceps, if used in delivery, or a too 
sudden alteration of temperature, the action of the lungs 
not having vet commenced, ^o matter from what cause 
death or suspended animation has occurred, effort? : 
establish respiration should be made immediately. 
The means to be employed is to immerse the child sud- 



SIGNS OF PREGNANCY. 79 

denly in cold water. In some cases the pouring of iced 
water upon the head and letting it run over the body has 
established the circulation and respiration. Artificial 
respiration is often resorted to with salutary effect. 

DURATION OF NURSING. 

The period of nursing ought to terminate, ordinarily, 
within a year, but in certain conditions and constitutions 
it has been advisable to continue it for a period of eighteen 
months, where children are very slow in getting their 
front teeth. 

Weaning should in no case take place suddenly, but 
the child should be gradually accustomed to other food, 
and less frequently applied to the breast until entirely 
weaned. The time to commence this gradual course is upon 
the first appearance of tne front teeth, so that the process of 
weaning may be consummated at the full development of 
the front teeth, and in proportion as the child becomes 
accustomed to other food, it will the more readily become 
reconciled to the loss of the breast. 





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CHAPTEE XIY. 



THE GRANDEUR OF WOMAN. 



^CT^^ra 




HILDEEX often treat their mothers in such a 
manner through thoughtlessness and neglect 
that after she is gone from them forever their 
hearts are filled with sorrow and their minds 
with vain regret on account of that neglect 
and the needless unhappiness it has caused 
their mother. Oh, how they wish that 
mother back again, so that they might atone 
for their unkindness or at least ask forgiveness 
for their folly and receive from her absolution ! 
But it is forever too late. When you want 
to get the grandest idea of a woman you do not think of 
Catherine of Eussia, or Anne of England, or of Marie 
Theresa of Germany. 

But when you want to get your grandest idea of a 
queen, you think of the plain woman who sat opposite 
your father at the table or walked arm in arm with him 
down life's pathway, sometimes to the thanksgiving ban- 
quet, sometimes to the grave, but always together. 
Soothing your petty griefs, correcting your childish way- 
wardness, joining in your infantile sports, listening to your 

80 




THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 



81 



THE GRANDEUR OF WOMAN. 83 

evening prayers, toiling for you with the needle, or at the 
spinning wheel, and on cold nights wrapping you up snug 
and warm. And at last when she lay in the little back 
room dying and you saw her take those thin hands with 
which she had toiled for you so long and put them to- 
gether in a dying prayer that commended you to that God 
she had taught you to trust — Oh, she was the queen ! 
The chariots of God went down to fetch her. You can- 
not think of her now without a rush of tenderness that 
stirs the fountains of your soul, and you feel as much a 
child again as when you cried on her lap, and if you 
could bring her back again to speak just once more your 
name as tenderly as she used to speak it, you would be 
willing to throw yourself upon the ground and kiss the 
clay-cold sod that covers her, crying Mother ! Mother ! 
Ah ! She was the queen ! 

Mother, I leave thy dwelling, 

Thy counsel and thy care ; 
With grief my heart is swelling, 

No more in them to share. 

— Conn. Observer. 




CHAPTER XY. 




DITTY TO PARENTS. 




'H FATHEK speaking to his careless daughter, 
said, U I want to speak to you of your 
mother. It may be that you have noticed 
a care-worn look upon her face lately; of 
course it has not been brought there by 
any act of yours, still it is your duty to 
chase it away. I want you to get up tomor- 
row morning and get the breakfast ready, 
and when your mother comes down and 
begins to express her surprise, go right up 
to her and kiss her ; you cannot imagine 
how it will brighten her dear face. Besides 
you owe her a kiss or two. Away back when you 
were a very little girl, she kissed you when no one 
else was tempted by your fever-tainted breath and 
swollen face. You were not as attractive then as 
you are now. and through all those years of childish 
sunshine and shadow she was always ready to cure 
by the magic of a mother's kiss, the little dirty, chubby 
hands whenever they were injured in those first 
skirmishes with this rough old world. And then the 
midnight kiss with which she routed so many unpleas- 
ant dreams as she leaned over your restless pillow, 

84 



DUTY TO PARENTS. 



85 



have all been on interest these long, long years. Of 
course she is not so pretty and idssable as you are, 
but if you had done your share of the work during the 
last ten years the contrast would not be so marked. 
Her face has more wrinkles than yours, far more, and 
yet if you were sick that face would appear more 
beautiful than an angel's as it hovered over you, 
watching every opportunity of ministering to your 
comfort, and every one of those wrinkles would seem 
to be bright wavelets of sunshine chasing each other 
over that dear face. She will leave you one of these 
days; these burdens, if not lifted from her shoulders, 
will break her down. Those worn and wasted hands 
that have done so many kind acts for you will be 
crossed upon her lifeless breast. Those neglected lips 
that gave you your first baby kiss will be forever 
closed, and those sad, tired eyes will have opened in 
eternity, and then you will appreciate your mother, 
but it, will be forever too late!" 

"There is no death! What seems so is transition. 
This life of mortal breath 
Is but the suburb of the life Elysian, 
Whose portal we call death. 

■Longfellow." 




THE WINGED VICTORY. 



CHAPTER XYI. 




PEOGEESS. 



HE past is gone. The present is passing, and 

the future only remains for us to improve or 

misimprove. The past is valuable to . us, in 

that it furnishes us with many examples of 

failure in consequence of lack of knowledge, 

and rnisimproved opportunities. As in religion, 

so in scientific knowledge, let us leave the 

first principles of the doctrines of Progress, 

and go on to perfection. Desiring to keep 

step in the ranks of the advance guards of our 

world, who are moving forward in social, civil, religious 

and scientific knowledge, we offer no apology with 

this volume, and indeed, none is needed in this 

fast age ; for the interests of on-coming generations 

demand that we push the battle to the gate, and while 

86 



PROGRESS. 87 

the enemies of Progress are indolently slumbering around 
the smoldering embers of their expiring camp fires, we 
will take possession of the field, and with the white dove 
of peace, and the noble bird of freedom perched upon our 
banners, we return with vanquished foes, dragged at the 
wheels of our triumphal chariots, to lay our trophies at 
the feet of an ever grateful and benefited world. 

Steam and lightning have now become docile 
messengers for man, and what shall man not accomplish 
under the inspiration of the spirit of research and 
inquiry? Man was made upright, but truly he hath 
sought out many inventions. He who with the true 
spirit of progress climbs the hill of science, leaving all 
superstitions far below, is destined to bathe his noble 
God-like brow in "the golden dawning of a grander 
day." All eyes are now strained toward the summit as 
they press forward with their research toward the misty 
opening in the clouds, so to speak, through which they 
disappeared, as Moses did when the cloudy mantle on 
Sinai's awful brow received the leader of Israel's host 
from their wondering gaze. 

Like Israel we wait for transfigured faces to appear 
between the crystal minarets of scientific discovery, and 
in a voice of exquisite sweetness, yet in tones of majesty, 
penetrate this accumulated gloom of ages, and bless the 
world and gladden the heart of the searchers after 
ultimate truth, by the announcement of glad tidings of 
great joy, which shall be to all people. Men point their 
telescopes toward the moon, bringing it within the radius 
of their visions, then scan with an almost devouring 
glance the wonders and hidden secrets thus confided to 



SS PROGKE--. 

their keeping ; then with a generosity begotten only 
of true magnanimity of spirit, they turn and gratu- 
itously bestow upon a waiting world the results of their 
labors. 

What an array of talent has been at work in the in- 
terests of the world and humanity ! Scientists haye un- 

%J 

tiringly labored to wi-ing from nature her profoundest 
secrets, to pour into the lap of waiting, wondering mill- 
ions, and what myriads of silent spectators (the recipients 
of these priceless blessings) now can say, " truly we haye 
been led in a way that we know not of. and in paths that 
we had not known." 

There has neyer been discoyered any royal road 
through which careless and indolent obseiwers may reach 
distinction without manfully striying to climb its sublim- 
est heights. This can only be accomplished by the faith- 
ful and diligent searcher after truth. Men generally 
reach eminence by deyeloping a system or science which 
has its origin in a single thought or idea. Thus Haiwey 
deyoted his life to a single proposition, and immortalized 
his name by demonstrating the circulation of the blood. 
Jenner's line of thought embraced the merits of yaccina- 
tion. Howe gaye the world the sewing machine. Morse 
studied the nature of the electric force, which resulted in 
the electric telegraph. Later we receiyed through Edison 
and Bell the electric telephone, one of the grandest acqui- 
sitions of the age, by which we can hear and recognize the 
yoice of our Mend from a distance of fifty miles, which, 
although a demonstrated fact, seems almost incredible. 
These noble men haye been called fanatics by their con- 
temporaries, but all liyed to see their propositions accepted 



PROGRESS. 89 

and the world benefited through their earnest and perse- 
vering endeavors. 

Let us note how man controls the elements, the wrath- 
ful cyclone and irresistible tornado which sweeps in ma- 
jesty over fair fields and fruitful vineyard, scattering 
death and debris all along its terrible track of devasta- 
tion, can be utilized by man in the fine arts. He takes an 
infinitesimal portion of the same destructive element and 
constructs the air brush, and with it reproduces in life- 
size the almost speaking likeness of some dearly loved and 
much esteemed friend or relative. The same progress is 
noticeable in all departments of science, literature and 
art. As much advancement has been made in religion. 
The world is being raised up to a higher plane of 
Christian perfection, as may be observed in the unity, 
forbearance and co- working of many of the orthodox 
Christian denominations. The watchmen upon the walls 
of Zion are beginning to see eye to eye. If any are doubt- 
ful with regard to the progress of which I speak, let them 
contrast the present era in which we are permitted to live 
with that period of the past, when the keel of the Mayflower 
ground upon the pebbly shore at Plymouth Eock in land- 
ing the Pilgrim Fathers of this great republic of fifty-six 
millions of American people. How much more to be ad- 
mired is the professional man, he who deliberately frees 
himself from the trammels of old fogy ism and ascends 
the mountain where he breathes a purer atmosphere ! The 
medical man, for instance, who dares to go beyond his 
predecessors and search out for himself great truths with 
which to bless the world, and openly declares that he will 



90 



PROGRESS. 



no longer remain the fossilized representative of an old 
and dogmatic theory. 

Give me strong new friends when the old prove weak 

Or fail me in the darkest hour of need 
"Why perish with the ship that springs a leak, 

Or lean upon a reed ? 

— Ella Wheeler. 








CHAPTEE XVII. 




THE WONDERS OF THE MICROSCOPE. 

FEW observations relative to the divisibility 
of matter may serve to interest and instruct 
our readers by demonstrating to their minds 
to what an extent matter may be divided. 
| These observations may at least show to those 
whose minds are not already permanently set- 
j) tied that not only morbific and medicinal may 
exist in infinitesimal atoms of matter, but life 
itself. It has been proved that gold may be 
divided into particles of imhnyuth of an inch, 
and yet possess the color and characteristics 
of the larger mass. A single drop of a strong 
solution of indigo, wherein at least 500,000 distinctly vis- 
ible portions can be shown, colors 1,000 cubic inches of 
water; and as this mass of water contains certainly 
500,000 times the bulk of the drop of indigo solution 
the particles of indigo must be smaller than the twenty- 
five hundred millionth of a cubic inch. To render the 
idea of this division more distinct than the mere mention 
of so imperfectly conceivable a number as a billion, it 

may be added that to reckon with a watch, counting 

91 



92 THE W0XDEES OF THE MICEOSCOPE. 

day and night, a single billion of seconds would consume 
31,675 years of time. Yet in the organized kingdoms of 
nature even this excessive tenuity of matter is far surpassed. 
An Irish girl has spun linen thread a pound of which 
would span a distance of 1,432 English miles; conse- 
quently seventeen pounds and thirteen ounces of the 
same would girt the globe. And yet these, so far from 
being ultimate particles of material, must have contained 
more than one vegetable or animal fiber, being of itself a 
complete organization and built up of an infinite number 
of more simple forms of matter. The microscope has, 
however, revealed to us still greater wonders as to the 
degree of minuteness which even complex bodies are 
capable of possessing. Each improvement in our instru- 
ments displays to us a new race of animals too minute to 
be observed before, and of which it would require the 
heaping together of millions to be visible to the unaided 
eye. And yet these animals live and feel and have their 
organs of locomotion, their appetites to gratify, and their 
dangers to avoid. They possess systems of circulation, 
often highly complex, and blood with globules bearing 
to them by analogy the same proportion in size which 
our blood globules do to us ; and these globules them- 
selves organized and possessed of definite shape, lead us 
to a point where all power of distinct conception ceases ; 
where we discover that nothing is great or small but by 
comparison, that presented by nature on one hand with 
magnitudes infinitelv great; and on the other hand with 
inconceivable minuteness ; it only remains for us to bow 
with meekness down before the omnipotence of Nature's 
God, and own our inability to understand him. 



THE WONDERS OF THE MICROSCOPE. 93 

The delicate, attenuated thread spun by the spider 
5s so small that it requires a very good eye to detect it 
unless aided by a ray of sunshine ; yet we are told that it 
is a tiny cable, and is composed of nearly 8,000 smaller 
ones ; and when one of these subdivisions is placed under a 
glass of greater power, it is found to be made up of an 
apparently innumerable number of smaller ones still. 
Here again we are obliged to halt, and let our imagina- 
tion run riot. Take for instance a grain of musk — pre- 
cisely a grain — place it in your wardrobe and allow it to 
remain there for a period of twenty years, permeating 
every fiber of clothing in the apartment, imparting to 
each article its characteristic odor, and after twenty 
years have elapsed, the most delicately poised instrument 
will not reveal a waste or diminishing of the musk. A 
grain still remains, yet during the period of twenty years 
atoms have been passing off constantly. 

The common house fly is usually infested with a par- 
asite so infinitesimal in size that 50,000 of them would not 
occupy more space than a grain of sand. These parasites 
are remarkably tenacious of life, and will often revive 
after having remained in a moderately strong solution of 
carbolic acid; but the lightest possible current of electric- 
ity produces death in a few seconds. It is interesting to 
note the effect electricity has upon these minute forms of 
life. When the current is appreciable to the touch of a 
person, death is instantaneous, but when the spark is suf- 
ficiently light their movements are interesting to witness. 
At first they plunge through the water in all directions as 
if to escape an enemy. Presently the whole colony 
gather together and engage in a personal war upon each 



94: THE WONDERS OF THE MICROSCOPE. 

other. It is necessary to state that this phenomenon can 
be witnessed only by the aid of a lens of sufficient mag- 
nifying power to bring them clearly before the eye. 

Much that we use for food is replete with animal 
life, and no doubt that could we see them in all their 
hideous deformity of the magnified state, we would fore- 
go eating many things which we now with our limited 
power of vision regard as a luxury. It is an established 
fact that vinegar is full of parasites, and frequently they 
attain sufficient size to be seen with the unaided eye. 
The air we breathe is full of minute forms of life, gener- 
ally in an undeveloped state, and from this source many 
of the most violent diseases originate. These tiny eggs, 
after they have found their way into the circulation via 
the lungs, find it fertile soil for their , development and 
propagation. So rapidly is their number increased as to set 
at defiance all methods of computation. Hence it is that 
a patient often dies before the physician realizes he is 
seriously ill. These galloping diseases run their course 
rapidly, and unless the issue is met with specific medica- 
tion inimical to the development of germ life, as well as 
the developed forms themselves, death soon closes the 
scene. 

Electricity properly applied is the one only specific 
capable of at once destroying these death signals with- 
out in any way compromising the integrity of the 
human tissues. The electric force is distributed with 
great prodigality throughout the universe, and its 
presence as a factor of health to the living is so 
important that without it no life could exist. And 
the most profound thinkers of the age contend that, 



THE WONDERS OF THE MICROSCOPE. 95 

k ' Life, Heat and Light are all modified manifestations 
of the electric force." 

In view of these facts it is well for us to bear in 
mind that electricity is an integral part of our physi- 
cal bodies {perhaps life itself), and hence when its 
current does not abound in quantity sufficient to keep 
the machinery in fuel, disease at once becomes mani- 
fest ; and when the limit of its absence is reached, the 
harvest is death. 

A w r ord in conclusion, by way of comparison, will 
serve to show the strides microscopy has made since 
the days of Franklin ; perhaps we have arrived at the 
stage in our study of electricity where our instruments 
are too coarse to enable us to extend our investiga- 
tion, yet how delicate and how efficient they are. 
Compare the instruments employed by Franklin, and 
even Faraday, with those which are in constant use 
today in our physical laboratories. Franklin by the 
utmost stretch of his imagination, could not conceive 
probably of a mirror galvanometer that can detect 
the electrical action of a drop of water upon two 
so-called chemically fine platinum plates ; or of a 
machine that can develop from the feeble magnetism 
of the earth a current sufficiently strong to light the 
city of New York. 

Let him w T ho wanders among the historical instru- 
ments of many of our college collections, stand before 
the immense frictional electrical machine of Franklin's 
day, or gaze upon the rude electrometers and galvano- 
meters of that time, and contrast Franklin's machine 
with the small Tcepler-Holtz electrical machine w T hich 



96 THE WONDEKS OF THE MICROSCOPE. 

with one-tenth of the size, gives a spark ten times as 
strong: as Franklin's. Yet at the same time let such 
an observer think of the possibilities of the next fifty 
years, for the advance in science is not in a simple 
proportion to that time, and the next fifty years will 
probably see a far greater advance than in one hun- 
dred years past. Probably before that time shall have 
come and gone, our researches will have advanced so 
far that by the aid of instruments we may render 
transparent the human tissues, affording the physician 
an opportunity to study the blood stream as it 
ramifies into a network throughout every portion of 
the economy. TYlien this time arrives and the student 
views the coursing blood freighted with countless 
myriads of living germs absorbing the vital forces, he 
will have great reason for thankfulness that his birth 
was deferred until scientific discovery had secured such 
blessings for the human race. Is not the state of our 
imagination like that of the shepherd boy who lies 
upon his back looking up at the stars, imagining what 
is beyond? 





CHAPTEK XVIII. 




THE HUMAN EYE. 



IS" looking abroad upon the beauties of this 
wonderful world, with its changing and ever- 
varying scenes of light and shade, its day and 
night, summer and winter, seed-time and har- 
vest, and the wonderful adaptation of this 
world for the sustenance of animal life, we 
are impressed with the eternal fitness of 
things, and led to admire the Great Architect 
and His wonderful works, exclaiming: "in 
wisdom hast thou made them all. In looking 
in upon ourselves we behold with wonder the struct- 
ure of the human body, and realize the truthfulness 
and force of the expression : " we are fearfully and 
wonderfully made." 

The human eye is a wonderful piece of mechanism. 
By its aid the sense of sight is. Without this sense we 
would be dead to many of the enjoyments of this life. 
As it is, we are indebted to the five senses, known as see- 
ing, hearing, feeling, smelling and tasting. And while 
7 97 



98 THE HUMAN EYE. 

they are all essential for our comfort and enjoyment, that 
of sight ranks first. Many people imagine that the eye, 
independent of any other organ or function of the body, 
sees objects, determines colors, recognizes features, land- 
scapes, etc. The eye cannot see of itself, but is the 
medium of sight for the brain. In other words, the eye 
is the instrument through which the brain sees distant 
objects. Or, to put it plain, the brain becomes cognizant 
of surrounding objects by looking through the eye. The 
outer extremity of the optic nerve expands into a large 
disc-like surface, which absorbs the rays of light, and 
reflects them to the substance of the brain, where they 
are impressed or photographed with a likeness of what- 
ever chanced to come within the sweep of vision. This 
wonderful arrangement by which the brain is able to 
look through its vaulted roof and behold the landscape 
rich in verdure, bespangled with flowers of every hue. 
We gaze upon the spangled heavens, whose shining frame 
proclaim their Great Original. These varied scenes of 
life alone are sufficient proof that there is above all a 
Supreme Architect, who has planned and executed this 
instrument, in order that man may behold His creation. 
The eye is to the body what the window is to the house. 
It is the window of the soul. It is a faithful index of 
the character. The honest soul can look you in the face 
without dodging his look, but the scoundrel is constantly 
changing his focus, fearing the while that you will pene- 
trate the mask of his deception. Not alone is the eye a 
marvel of perfection, but it is a mark of beauty to those 
whose characters are true and noble. If you Avould possess 
lovely eyes cultivate amiability of disposition, honesty 




99 



THE HUMAN EYE. 



101 



and integrity of purpose, and the soul's magnetism will 
illumine and make them attractive and beautiful. 

The bright black eye, 

The melting blue ; 
You cannot choose 

Between the two. 

— Anonymous. 





CHAPTER XIX. 



THE EAR. 



" He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." 



HILE the ear may occupy a subordinate posi- 
tion to the eye in the economy of nature, yet 
it can scarcely be truthfully said to be of 
minor importance to the eye, as both are 
necessary to construct one grand and mag- 
nificent whole, the perfection of which is 
characteristic of the work of the all- wise, and 
omnipotent Jehovah. For though the sense 
of sight be keen, and all the other facilities 
are in harmony, and act in unison, yet if the 
ear fails to perform the functions of its office, 
disorder and confusion will reign throughout 
the entire system. What kindness is manifest in our 
Creator thus to endow and bless us with those senses so 
susceptible of gratification from our surroundings. The 
eye is regaled while we gaze upon the beautiful, be it 
the human face divine, or the beautiful perfume-laden 
flowers which blossom all along our pathway, while the 

sweet ravishing sound of heaven-born harmony, which 

102 




THE EAR. 103 

pours in upon the senses through the medium of the ear, 
defies all power of language to describe. 

The ear is the medium through which the brain 
becomes conscious, and takes cognizance of sound. It 
consists of three parts, viz. : external, middle and internal. 
Sound produces atmospheric waves, which are collected 
by the external portion and passed down the canal to the 
drum of the ear, which is a delicate membrane stretched 
across the opening. The cavity of the tympanum is not 
hermetically sealed, but communicates with the pharynx 
by means of a tube called the eustachian tube. This 
opening secures the equality of atmospheric pressure 
within and without the drum, a condition which is very 
essential to its proper vibration under the influence of 
atmospheric waves. The labyrinth, or internal ear, is so 
called from the complicated extension and windings of 
its various cavities and passages. It is d ivided into : 
first, the vestibule and semicircular canals, which con- 
stitute its most essential part. The cavity of the labj r 
rinth contains a limpid, colorless fluid, and in addition 
two closed membranous sacs. They are the structures 
upon which the impression of sound is finally received, 
and correspond, in that respect, to the retina in the organ 
of vision. The sonorous impulses first communicated by 
the atmosphere to the drum of the ear, are thence trans- 
mitted through the bony tissues of the maleus, incus and 
stapes (three little bones of the internal ear) and from 
thence to the labyrinth, where the auditory nerve termi- 
nates in sensitive filaments, which reflect the impulses 
to the brain. Hence it will be seen that the ear is onlv 



::4 



l no greater insult 
cr divine origin, by 



an instrument through which the brain receiTes its 
impressions, and becomes conscious of sound. 

— iiiii: • > : :i lii. ^ mil. n:: I kn:~ 

to offer to our maker than to den\ 

promulgating the atheistic doctrine of no-God-ism, and 

that mankind and the world are the result of some great 

accident, instead of by virtue of that all-creative power 

whose voice resounded in majesty over the dark abyss 

of waters when He said u Let there be light." 




CHAPTER XX. 




MANLINESS. 



lOCIALITY is to man what modesty is 

to woman. It is a principle that should be 

ever active, but governed by consistency. A 

lack of this betrays at once a deficiency in 

I true manliness. 

To the young man just entering the most 
important portion of his existence — the for- 
mation of a worthy name and character — it 
is well that he should first learn that society 
corrupts as it is corrupt — that it forms or 
molds principles by a gradual or accelerated 
progress according to the degree of its influ- 
ence. Therefore there is no danger in being too particu- 
lar in the selection of society. Just and discriminating 
ideas generally lead to proper action, and a willing judg- 
ment enforces a strict adherence to the rules of propriety. 
Stupid, yes, presumptuous, must that young man be who 
would peril every prospect for a good character upon the 
illusive glitter of a base act, because he cannot see at 
once the true tendency of a consistent course of life. 
But it can be seen, and like the works of a good man 
will shine before the world, leaving a light behind and 

sending its arrowy beams into the future to guide life's 

105 



106 MANLINESS. 

wandering steps aright. Deportment, honesty, caution 
and a desire to do right, carried into practice, are to 
human character what truth, reverence and love are to 
religion. They are the unvarying elements of a good 
reputation. Such virtues can never be reproached 
although the vulgar and dissolute may scoff at them ; but 
it is not so much in the hatred of their virtues as it is in 
the wish to reduce them to the standard of their own 
degraded natures and vitiated passions. Let such scoff 
and sneer, let them laugh and ridicule as much as they 
may — a strict, upright, onward course will evince to 
the world and its votaries that there is more manly inde- 
pendence in one forgiving smile than in all the pretended 
exceptions to worthiness in the society of the mean and 
vulgar. Virtue must have its admirers, and firmness of 
principle, both moral and religious, will ever command 
the proudest encomium of the intelligent world. 

Man should be rated, not by his hoards of gold, not 
for the temporary influence he may for a time exert ; but 
by his unexceptionable principles relative both to charac- 
ter and religion. Strike out these, and what is he ? A 
brute without a virtue — a savage without a sympathy ! 
Take them away, and his manhood is gone, he no longer 
lives in the image of his Maker ! A cloud of sin hangs 
darkly on his brow ; there is ever a tempest in his 
countenance, the lightning in his glance, the thunder in 
his words, and the storm and tempest in the muttered 
breathings of his angry soul. No smile gladdens his lip, 
to tell that love is playing there ; no sympathizing glow 
illuminates his cheek. Every word burns with malice, 
and that voice — the mystic gift of heaven — grates as 



MANLINESS. 1(>7 

harshly on the timid ear as bursting thunderbolts amid 
the beetling crags. 

But this is too dark a picture for humanity to con tern 
plate with pleasure. Turn we from it now as from a fright- 
ful dream, to the only divine image that virtue elevates 
before the world for our example. Let man go abroad with 
just principles, and what is he ? An exhaustless fountain 
in the vast desert of human life ! A glorious sun shining 
ever — dispelling every vestige of darkness ! There is 
love animating his heart, sympathy breathing in every 
tone, tears of pity, the dew-drops of the soul, gather in 
his eye, and gush impetuously down .his cheek. Quivering 
on his lips are kindly words that long for utterance, and 
holy thoughts with lightning tips forever play amid the 
tell-tale glances of his lustrous eye. A good man is 
abroad, and the world knows it. Beneath his smile there 
lurks no degrading passion, within his heart there slum- 
bers no guilt. He is not exalted in mortal pride — not 
elevated in his own views, not wise in his own conceit, but 
honest, moral and virtuous before the world, he sits 
enthroned on truth, his fortress is wisdom, and his 
dominion is the vast illimitable universe of God. Always 
upright, he finds his chief happiness in doing good to his 
fellow man. 

This is true manliness. 

Life is real, life is earnest ; 

And the grave is not its goal; 
Dust thou art, to dust returnest, 

Was not spoken of the soul. 

— Longfellow. 




CHAPTEE XXI. 




TO THE YOUXG COXTEMPLATESTG IMATRIMOXY. 

VER since the famous proclamation ascribed to 
Deity, Multiply and replenish the earth, hu- 
man society has been practicing marriage. 
To many matrimony has proven a blessing, 
while to others it has been a consuming curse. 
Unless candidates for matrimony possess 
steady heads and philosophic minds (which 
seldom happens in those youthful marriages) 
it takes the chances of a lottery. With the 
exercise of ordinary prudence perhaps the 
chances are about evenly divided between biting and 
eettino: bitten. Therefore be careful in the selection 
of a partner for life. 

The average youthful male devotes a considerable por- 
tion of his existence during his teens, to courtship. He is 
fond of this phase of life long before he reaches the dimen- 
sions of manhood. His mind is deeply engrossed in pur- 
suing and subduing some sweet damsel. And as soon as 
he can muster a beard that resembles the down on a half- 
grown peach he pours into her willing ear the story of 

that all-consuming tender passion. Ordinarily the sen- 

108 



TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 109 

timent is reciprocated to the extent of an affirmative 
answer with the usual reference to father for approval, 
and generally he gives his consent ; and in a few weeks 
these two youths who are incapable of understanding the 
great obligation they are about to assume, hurry into 
matrimony. To them it is a dream of bliss. They do not 
imagine that their sentimental star will ever grow dim. 
They fancy that for them golden days will always shine. 
In their youthful ardor they dream of nothing but moonlit 
evenings and diamond mornings of rainbows and the song of 
birds. They cannot realize that by virtue of temperamental 
conditions it will be impossible for them to pass the 
period of their lives in harmony. These are questions 
that have never been considered by the contracting 
parties until they find themselves manacled by a contract 
life-long in duration, which so often results in disaster to 
two lives which in the beginning were replete with prom- 
ise of usefulness to the world. A great deal has been 
written in favor of early marriage vs. late marriage, and, 
while I am in favor and warmly advocate the former, I 
am irrevocably opposed to premature marriage. First, 
because premature marriages furnish more candidates for 
divorce courts than any other variety, and hence that 
which was designed to be the most sacred earthly tie is 
brought to the level of a controversy and a trade. Again 
premature marriages form the basis of poorly developed 
offspring, and throw into existence a class which makes 
old age impossible and is a menace to long and useful con- 
tinuation of our race. I am aware that in many states a 
separation can be cheaply and expeditiously arranged, but 
it often happens that where legal therapeutics use the 



110 TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 

knife and sever the bond the wound thus made refuses to 
heal, and is sure to leave a scar which amounts to a dis- 
figurement for life, 

I regret exceedingly to be compelled to say that the 
parents are often more responsible for these premature 
and incompatible alliances than the contracting parties 
themselves, who. under the pressure brought to bear upon 
them in their natural youthful ardor and inexperience, 
assume responsibilities which they are no more competent 
to perform than a new-born babe is the responsibilities of 
advanced and mature manhood. 

For certain alleged reasons many parents seek to 
marry their children off at an early age. Especially is 
this true in reference to their daughters. So prevalent 
is this habit among the better classes that not more than 
one woman of every hundred marries the man she loves. 
This may seem startling, even incredible, yet it is the 
truth which cannot be disproved. The idea of a boy and 
girl assuming responsibilities so momentous in their 
nature, which are destined to run parallel with their ex- 
istence, involving their present and eternal weal or woe 
when thev should be in leading strings, is decidedlv 
wrong, and I believe that in the near future legal 
enactment will make these juvenile marriages an ille- 
gality. 

As has already been observed, under the most favor- 
able surroundings and circumstances, marriage is a 
lottery. Therefore what may it not become when 
children who have no conception of the duties and 
demands of wedded life, are not only allowed but 
persuaded and even coerced into an alliance likely to 




Ill 



TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 113 

prove a blighting curse? Full manhood is oftener gov- 
erned by impulse and passion than by reason, and shall we 
as parents and guardians hasten our children into obliga- 
tions so sacred as marriage before reason has blossomed, 
with nothing but the amative passions to determine a 
question which involves such momentous results ? God 
alone knows the anguish which has been endured by 
virtue of this wholesale sacrifice of the human race 
while in the . very weakest moment of its existence. 
They are like vessels at sea upon a dangerous coast, with 
hidden shoals and breakers all around, so that the first 
breeze which ruffles the silvery surface of their mellow 
moon-lit matrimonial sea, throws all into disorder and 
confusion. They have launched their frail vessel upon the 
ebbing tide of human life's, duties and responsibilities 
with all sails set to woo the freshening breeze which is to 
waft them away upon their perilous voyage ; and with 
exuberance of youthful ardor they imagine that fair skies 
and deeply blue will ever canopy their heads ; and those 
rare and fragrant flowers which seem blossoming for their 
especial gratification will attend them all their journey 
through, little dreaming that this sun-kissed water which 
looks so inviting may at any moment become a dark and 
turbid stream, rolling hopelessly on between the " cold 
and barren mountain peaks of two eternities, from whose 
crested summits comes no answer to their call, save the 
echo of their wailing cry. 

At sixteen years the average boy regards himself as 
an individual of more than ordinary importance. He 
pays weekly, or perhaps semi-weekly, visits to some har- 
monious bud of the opposite sex, who has been in a state 



114 TO THE YOUNG- CONTEMPLATING MATKIMONY. 

of preparation since the day before, while her mother 
has rilled the position of cook, chambermaid, and general 
roustabout. Her daughter — this lily which is to be — is 
just about to complete her toilet ; and while we are so 
near this silly child — for such she is — let us take a gen- 
eral survey of her embellishments. Her hair is combed 
in the regulation style, with bangs a complement, and if 
nature has been a little tardy in giving her a voluptuous 
bust artificial means are resorted to, to give it form arid 
completeness. From the appearance of her waist, one is 
reminded that art has been prodigal in making a display. 
With a physical form fairly proportioned by inheritance, 
you see it badly demoralized by a contrivance of some 
sort, which compresses the naturally expanding form 
into a wasp-like shape at the waist, which adds promi- 
nence to the hips, and alleged beauty to the general con- 
tour. 

This brief description will suffice to show how the 
girl of the period is largely the work of art, instead of 
the blooming, blushing, honest, smiling child of nature, 
and is thus gotten up regardless of expense in order to 
still further captivate her admirer, whom she expects 
momentarily to arrive; but George is late, for he has 
been in the privacy of his room equally busy endeavoring 
to enhance his personal appearance, in order to more 
thoroughly please his charmer. For hours he has been 
busy examining the ground, and irrigating the soil upon 
which the tardy growth of an incipient moustache is, to 
his unspeakable delight, beginning to make its advent. 
These two human beings, with human destinies before 
them, and the untrodden ground of care and sorrow over 



TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 115 

which all must pass who expect to spend their lifetime 
in each other's society, and yet at the outset they do not 
hesitate to commence by deceiving each other. 

It is not our intention to present our readers with an 
exhaustive treatise in conclusion upon this subject under 
consideration, but remark just here that we confidently 
believe that those who peruse this work will be benefited 
thereby, and will find no difficulty in forming clear and 
lucid ideas of the relations of the sexes, as also of the 
duties and requirements of the contracting parties, which 
are essential to render marriage a blessing instead of a 
consuming curse. Also, we desire to warn the young of 
fatal consequences in the recognition of any crime which 
precipitates humanity with headlong impetuosity down 
the precipice of moral ruin toward the utmost limit of 
degradation. 

It is argued that because God has made mankind free 
moral agents it is a proof that He has destined them 
for immortal existence ; and because He has made them 
male and female is also a proof that He has ordained that 
they should perpetuate themselves upon this earth by 
generation. 

God has ordained that two hearts should be fused and 
molded into one, so to speak, and that henceforth their 
thoughts should flow on in the same channel. He has 
also ordered that the supreme necessity of intelligent 
beings upon this earth is to enjoy and reciprocate affection. 
God has endowed the male and female with capabilities 
of traveling side by side in life, sharing with each other 
the sunshine and shadows, the joys and sorrows of their 
heavenward journey. I quote a few sentences from a 



116 TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 

book published by I know not whom. The author sub- 
scribes himself thus : "By a Physician." 

He says, " God has given the husband and wife 
equality in difference. In no respect are these differ- 
ences more marked than in love. It differs not only in 
degree but in kind. Love is in the very nature of 
woman. She may be said to possess it in a general sense, 
independent of individual application. Scarcely out of 
the cradle, she responds readily to caresses and manifes- 
tations of affection. The boy, on the contrary, seems 
endowed with a sort of brutality; his affections and 
tendencies develop only with his growth, and in propor- 
tion as the necessities of his life exact them." 

So true to life is the foregoing that I cannot forbear 
embodying them. Through youthful inexperience men 
often make the great mistake of their lives, in thinking 
that now as they are married they must settle down to 
the stern realities of business life, forgetting or thought- 
lessly neglecting those little attentions which they never 
could forget before marriage. 

Although perhaps unintentional, yet it is a fertile 
source of sorrow and trouble. A husband should ever 
remain a lover and the wife a sweetheart. She expects a 
continuance of those attentions he used to bestow upon 
her so lavishly prior to marriage. Women do not demand 
or require the extravagance of early wooing from their hus- 
bands, but those acts of tenderness and consideration 
should take the place of flattering words. Those caresses 
of the soul are of more consequence than the trans- 
ports of sensual gratification. 

Often the man of the world is too much engrossed by 




117 



TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 119 

business cares to notice that his wife is pining and starv- 
ing for that affection which she has a right to expect 
from him, and in its absence she imagines he is changed 
and cold toward her, and in a corresponding degree does 
she assume toward him a frigidity of manner which re- 
sults in an open breach, and widens into a yawning gulf 
into which domestic felicity is plunged, and sinks to rise 
no more. In such cases at the outset the husband thinks 
he has captured an angel, whose bright smile will shed a 
halo of glory all along life's sinuous path, and the wife is 
equally sanguine that her husband is the embodiment of 
virtue, purity and true nobility of spirit. The sequel 
proves that the mistake was mutual. 

Desire is said to be a tree in leaf ; hope is a tree in 
bloom, and realization is a tree laden with luscious fruit. 
But their sensations were a tree in leaf, and their ill-timed 
marriage has torn away the mask, and for the first time 
they behold each other in their true light, and they are 
made to feel that their young lives are blighted by a 
hasty and premature alliance. These sentiments do not 
take possession of their souls at once without warning, 
but by degrees they awaken to the awful fact that the 
abyss into which they have been led is closed on every 
side and they find no avenue of escape though they seek 
it carefully and with tears. 

In a fit of melancholy the husband takes to drink, 
which means neglect of business, late hours at the club 
room, and a quarrelsome disposition. Thus reduced to 
poverty, the wife learns to hate him, and the children 
fear his approach. The family scenes are scenes of dis- 
order and desolation ; and as the girl-wife and boy-hus- 



120 TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATEIMONY. 

band indulge in jeering and sarcastic epithets concerning 
each other's weakness and faults, the children soon know 
it all, and become the repositories of very highly colored 
statements, and quickly lose their respect for them 
both. In cases of incompatibility of feeling and senti- 
ment like the one herein described, we believe that a 
separation is the only remedy that can be applied to 
their case ; yet we do not wish to be understood as advo- 
cating divorce law; for the law of God is heard pro- 
claiming, " Whom, therefore, God hath joined together, let 
no man put asunder." 

While we believe there are those who are God-joined, 
yet we also believe that by far the great majority of 
those whose lives do not flow on harmoniously together 
ought never to have sustained the relation of husband 
and wife, and thereby made a mockery of the holy 
state of matrimony as ordained by God, when he said, 
u For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, 
and shall cleave unto his wife, and they twain shall be 
one flesh." 

The unnumbered millions of unhappy alliances bears 
no analogy to the union and mysterious blending of 
heart with heart, as spoken of by him who spake as 
never man spake. We believe that that alone is mar- 
riage ; all else is legalized concubinage. Thus, padlocked 
together by civil law, it is presumed that civil law has 
a right to annul and set aside a contract which is made 
and ratified only by legal enactment. Maria Brooks has 
thus described marriage. 




THE BRIDE. 



121 



TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 123 

The bard has sung, God never formed a soul 

Without its own peculiar mate to meet, 
Its wandering half, when ripe to crown the whole 

Bright plan of bliss, most heavenly, most complete ! 

But thousand evil things there are that hate 

To look on happiness ; these hurt, impede, 
And, leagued with time, space, circumstance and fate, 

Keep kindred heart from heart, to pine and pant and bleed. 

And, as the dove to far Palmyra flying 
From where her native founts of Antioch beam, 

Weary, exhausted, longing, panting, sighing, 
Lights sadly at the desert's bitter stream, 

So many a soul o'er life's drear desert .faring, 
Love's pure congenial spring unfound, unquaffed, 

Suffers, recoils, then, thirsty and despairing 
Of what it would, descends and sips the nearest draught. 

But when two congenial souls meet who have arrived 
at mature and intelligent man and womanhood, who have 
learned and understand the duties incumbent upon them 
to perform toward each other and the world, they rush 
not thoughtlessly on, nor to a shrine so sacred rudely 
press. The bride with much reluctance and many heart- 
throbs, and with doubts and fears alternating in her 
bosom, relinquishes the home of her childhood and the 
friends of her youth, the faithful, tried and true, even 
the father and mother, who gave her her existence, and 
nourished her in her helpless hours. These, and all the 
tender and happy associations of youth and affluence are 
weighed in the balance and found wanting, when con- 
trasted with the new life, so all-absorbing in its nature 
and tendencies, which has taken possession of her entire 
being. She lays all her treasured joy and the friendships 



124 TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 

of her happy past experience upon the all-consuming- 
altar of her love for one who may deceive her, and repairs 
with the man of her choice, perhaps to some far-off clime, 
there to enjoy the rich fruition of anticipated happiness, 
or to be crushed and immolated upon the shrine of her 
affections by the more than mountain- weight of a knowl- 
edge that she has been deceived. 

Mrs. Sigournev speaks thus of such devotion in her 
poem entitled 

THE BRIDE. 

I came and she was gone, 
Yet I had seen her from the altar led, 
The fresh young rosebud deepening in her cheek 
And on her brow the sweet and solemn thought 
Of one who gives a priceless gift away. 
And there was silence 'mid the gathering throng. 
The stranger, and the hard of heart did draw 
Their breath supprest, to see the mother's lip 
Turn ghastly pale, and the majestic sire 
Shrink as with smothered sorrow when he gave 
His darling to an untried guardianship 
And to a far-off clime. 

Even triflers felt 
How strong and beautiful is woman's love, 
That, taking in her hand her thornless joys, 
The tenderest melodies of tuneful years. 
Yea ! and her own life, lavs them all, 
Meek and unblenching, on a mortal's breast, 
Reserving nought, save that unspoken hope 
"Which hath its root in God. 

Mock not with mirth 
A scene like this, ye laughter-loving ones ; — 
The licensed jester's lip, the dancer's heel — 
What do they here ? 



TO THE YOUNG CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY. 



125 



Joy, serious and sublime, 
Such as doth nerve the energies of prayer, 
Should swell the bosom, when a maiden's hand 
Filled with life's dewy flowerets, girdeth on 
The harness which the ministry of death 
Alone unlooseth, but whose fearful power 
May stamp the sentence of eternity. 




CHAPTEE XXII. 



LOVE. 





"Humboldt notices that the streams in America run 
languidly in the night, and wait the rising of the sun to 
|*^ quicken their flight . " 

OVE is to the heart what the sun is to the 
American streams — it moves languidly in its 
absence. Love is the sun of life ; most beauti- 
ful at morning and evening, but warmest at 
the noon-tide hour. It is the sun of the soul. 
Life without love is worse than death — "A 
world without a sun." "You mav make vour 

ml ml 

affections too cheap or too dear, in dealing 

with your children or your friends. If too 

cheap, no one will value them ; if too dear 

all will despair of securing them." 

Affections are so many moral objects to be 

accorded to justice, not to favor, and never to be 

withheld when due, nor bestowed when undeserved. 

Love is not ripened in one day, nor in many, nor in a 

human lifetime. It is the oneness of soul with soul in 

appreciation and perfect trust. To be blessed it must rest 

in that faith in the divine, which underlies every other 

emotion. To be true it must be eternal as God himself. 

126 




LOVE. 127 

When Zeno was told that it was disgraceful for a philos- 
opher to be in love, he replied, " If that be true, the fair 
sex are much to be pitied, for they would receive only 
the attention of fools." Some one speaking of a beautiful 
girl remarked that he was almost in love with her, though 
her understanding was by no means brilliant. " Pooh ! " 
said Goethe, "as if love had anything to do with under- 
standing ! We love a lady for very different things than 
understanding. We love her for her beauty, her youth, 
her mirth, her confidingness, her character with its faults, 
and heaven knows what other inexpressible charms ; but 
we do not love her understanding. Her mind we esteem 
(if it is brilliant). But her understanding is not that 
which awakens and inflames our passions." Woman either 
loves or abhors, man admires or despises. Woman with- 
out love is fruit without flavor. In love the virtuous 
woman says no ; the passionate says yes ; the capricious 
says yes and no ; the coquette neither says yes nor no. A 
coquette is a rose from which every lover plucks a leaf ; 
the thorn remains for the future husband. Love, while it 
often corrupts pure hearts, often purifies corrupt hearts. 
How well he knew the human heart who said, " We wish 
to constitute all the happiness, but if that cannot be, all 
the misery of the one we love." Reason is only the last 
resource of love. 

He that loves on account of virtue can never be 
weary, because there are always fresh charms to attract 
him. Solid love, whose root is virtue, can no more die 
than virtue itself. It is by no means certain that Mark 
Antony, when he gave the world for love, did not make 
a sharp bargain. 



1:25 



LOVE. 



He who loves a lady's complexion, form and features, 
loves not her true self, but her soul's old clothes. The 
love that has nothing but beauty to sustain it soon dies. 
The love that is fed with presents always requires that 
kind of diet to keep it alive. Love, and love only, is the 
loan for love. The love that links together man and 
wife is a far holier affection and a more enduring passion 
than the enthusiasm of young love. Who can measure 
its height or its depth ? Who can estimate its preserving 
and purifying power \ It sends an ever swelling stream 
of life through the household, and binds hearts in one 
" bundle of life." It shields them from temptation, it 
breaths music into the voice, into the footstep, it gives 
worth and beauty to the commonest office, it gives power 
to effort and wings to progress. It surrounds home with 
an atmosphere of moral health. Love is omnipotent. 
Love is God, for God is love. That love which sur- 
vives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes of 
the soul. If we still love those we lose, we cannot 
altogether lose those we love. Oh man, fear not 
for thy affections, and have no dread lest time should 
efface them ! There is neither today nor yesterday 
in the powerful echoes of memory — there is the al- 
ways present now. There are two memories — the 
memory of the senses, which wears out with the senses, 
and in which perishable things decay ; and the memory 
of the soul, for which time does not exist, and which 
lives oyer at the same instant every moment of its past 
and present existence. Fear not, ye who love. Time has 
power over hours, but no power over the soul. Love is 
the great instrument and engine of nature, the bond 



LOVE. 12 ( J 

and cement of society, the spring and spirit of the 
universe. 

The soul will sooner cease to exist than to love, and 
like the vine, it withers and dies if it has nothing to 
embrace. A woman's whole life is the history of her 
affections. The heart is her world ; it is there her ambi- 
tion strives for empire ; it is there her love seeks for 
hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on 
adventure ; she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of 
affection; and if shipwrecked her case is hopeless — for it 
is bankruptcy of the heart. Some one has said that 
woman loves with the heart, and that man loves with the 
head. Some writer asserts that "a French woman will 
love her husband if he is either witty or chivalrous ; a 
German woman if he is faithful ; a Spanish woman if he 
wreaks vengeance on those who incur his displeasure ; an 
English woman, if he succeeds in ingratiating, himself 
with the court and the aristocracy ; and the American 
woman, if he has plenty of money." 

There are two classes of disappointed lovers — those 
who are disappointed before marriage and the more 
unhappy ones who are disappointed after it. To be 
deprived of a person we love is a happiness in comparison 
with enduring one whom we dislike. 

The following good counsel is from a wife and 
mother : " I will try to make myself and all around me 
agreeable. It will not do to leave a man to himself till 
he comes to you, to take no pains to attract him, to 
appear before him with a long face. It is not so difficult 
as you think, dear child, to behave toward a husband so 
that he shall remain forever a husband. I am an old 



1:30 



LOVE. 



woman, and you can still do as you choose ; but a word 
from vou at the right time will not fail of its effect ; 
what need have you to play the part of suffering virtue ( 
k The tear of a loving girl,' says an old book, ' is like a 
dew-drop on a rose, but that on the cheek of a wife is a 
drop of poison to her husband.' Try to appear cheerful 
and contented, and your husband will be so ; and when 
you have made him happy you will become so in reality. 
JSo thing flatters a man so much as the happiness of his 
wife ; he is always proud of himself as being the source 
of her iovousness. As soon as vou are cheerful vou will 
be lively and alert, and allow no opportunity to pass for 
speaking an agreeable word. Your education, which 
gives you an immense advantage, will greatly assist you, 
and your sensibility will become the noblest gift that 
nature has bestowed on you when it shows itself in affec- 
tionate assiduity, and stamps on every action a soft, kind, 
tender character instead of wasting itself in secret 
repinings." 

Whence is the might of thy master spell ? 
Speak to me, voice of sweet sounds, and tell — 
How canst thou wake by our gentle breath, 
PassioDate visions of love and death? 

— Mrs. Remans. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



THE CHARM OF YOUTH. 

HERE is a nameless charm which youth alone 
possesses — a glory and a grace enfolding it — a 
dazzling halo, an enchanted atmosphere that 
enwraps it, and through whose golden-tinted 
mist is viewed the world. 

All things are taken for granted ; what is 
fair to the sight is looked upon and believed, 
with never a doubt or fear, calm skies and 
deeply blue, with scarce a flitting fleecy cloud, 
and sunshine, sunshine everywhere ! " And 
Oh ! the flowers that blossom thick and sweet, 
culled by careless hands, crushed by light foot- 
steps ! ye bloom but once, fair, fragrant flowers." So 
trusting is }^outh, it will not question what it wishes true 
— will not see a fault, but rather a virtue to adore. Upon 
the site of ruined towers it rears its fairy castles high; se- 
cure and firm they must stand, though their foundations 
be but quicksand, and baseless as the fabric of a vision, 
which at every step threatens to spring a mine beneath 
their feet ; yet no beating storms or tempest shocks shall 

touch these glittering walls, for is not the sunshine every- 

131 




132 THE CHARM OF YOUTH. 

where ? But soon, too soon, they pass ; and where those 
fair blossoms grew spring sharp thorns, thick and fast, 
which pierce the soul. 

Where are the forms of truth and loveliness once so 
wildly worshiped? Where is the statue of faith, fair, 
pure and holy ? " And hope, that beautiful one, has she 
fled the earth forever ? " Make answer, heart, that hath 
lived to see youth with its thronging train of angel 
visitants depart; thou hast borne so many woes, thou 
scarce can think aright. How easily are the sympathies 
of childhood awakened; how readily the young heart 
responds to the tones of kindness and affection, and bares 
its every thought, fair as the mirrored surface of a sum- 
mer lake. Why can it not be forever thus ? Oh ! why 
must the world's first lesson be deceit ? Why must the 
teachings of experience be suspicion and distrust ? Time, 
as he brushes the peach-like blossom from the cheek of 
youth and beauty, leaves upon the heart traces of vanity, 
pride and selfishness. Why must the warm, gushing 
streams of benevolence, friendship and love be stayed in 
their course by the cold policy of a heartless world ? 

"Make answer, heart, whose morning was so fair, 
whose early promises lie wrecked upon a far-off shore ! 
Oh ! youth, whose memory we so fondly cherish ; no 
sharper pang can touch our hearts than this — to know 
that thou art lost to us forever." 

Speak gently, then, and win the smiles 

Back to the shadowed face, 
And bid the clouded brow resume 

Its fresh and youthful grace. 

— Anon. 




CHILDHOOD. 



133 



MP 

Nil 


F 




CHAPTER XXIY. 




JEALOUSY. 

F all passions jealousy is that which exacts the 
hardest service and pays the bitterest wages. 
Its service is to watch the success of our ene- 
mies. Jealousy violates- contracts, dissolves 
society, breaks wedlock, betrays friends and 
neighbors, nobody is good and everyone is 
either doing or designing them a mischief. Its 
rise is in guilt or ill nature, and by reflection it 
thinks its own faults to be other men's, as he 
that is overrun with the jaundice takes others 
to be yellow. Avarice, ambition, and terror 
may have mercy, but there is one passion lurk- 
ing within the human breast whose very instinct is murder. 
Once lodged within the heart, for life it rules ascend- 
ant and alone ! It sports in solitude like an antic fiend ! 
It pants for blood, and streams of gore will never satisfy 
its thirst. Minds strongest in worth and valor stoop to 
meanness and disgrace before it. To the weakest soul it 
can give courage beyond the daring of despair ! What is 
the sting which no balm can assuage ? And what the 
wound that death alone can heal ? Whose is the sword 
that, when once drawn, the scabbard must be cast away 
forever? When is it that the man will hear nothing but 

135 



1:36 JEALOUSY. 

the tale that falls like molten lead upon his ear ? Who 
has no eye but for the plucked-out heart of him he hates ; 
no hand but for that clutch — that one last clutch — that 
grasps his dagger % He once was wise, but now he casts 
away his reason ; was kind and pitiful, but now he 
mimics the mock pity of the untutored savage. He hews 
his foe to pieces, writes " acquittal " on his tomb, and dies % 
That wretch is jealous ! Pity him, whate'er his crimes. 
The gamester, whose last piece is lost ; the merchant, 
whose whole risk the sea has. swallowed up; the child, 
whose air bubble has burst, may each create a bubble like 
the former ! But he whose treasure was in woman's love ; 
who trusted as man once trusts, and was deceived ! That 
hope once gone ! Weep, rave, despair, for there is again 
no finding of thy treasure ! Let not any too rigorously 
judge the conduct of the victim of jealousy. Eemember 
that the maniac suffers, though that suffering be from self- 
ishness, and often without the shadow of a cause. Pity 
and have charity that never faileth, for you may yourself 
fall into temptation. It is a sorer curse, a more certain 
and fatal blight to the heart on which it falls than it can 
be to those against whom its spite is hurled. Then, 
while none should bend too far to the whims of jealousy, 
all should be patient with its victims. " Jealousy is cruel 
as the grave." Not the grave that opens its deep bosom 
and receives to its friendly embrace from further storms 
the worn and weary pilgrim who rejoices and is exceed^ 
ing glad when he finds its oblivion and repose, but cruel 
as the grave when it yearns and swallows down from 
the lap of luxury, from the summit of fame, from the 
bosom of love, the joy of many hearts and the delight of 



JEALOUSY. 137 

many eyes. Jealousy is a two-headed asp biting back- 
ward and forward. Among the deadly things upon the 
earth or flying through the deadly night air of malarious 
regions, none are so fatal as the deadly vampire of jeal- 
ousy, and of all the mad passions there is not one that 
has a vision so distorted or a more unreasonable fury. 
To the jealous eye the very sunshine turns a deadly, lurid 
glare. There is no innocence, no justice, no generosity 
that is not touched with suspicion. And jealousy is an 
utter folly, for it helps nothing and saves nothing. If 
your friend's love is going or gone to another, will your 
making yourself hateful or vindictive stay it or bring it 
back ? And if it is not leaving you, is there not a great 
risk in rendering yourself so unlovely ? 

A woman is either worth a great deal or she is worth 
nothing. If worth nothing, she will not pay for getting 
jealous over. If she be a true woman, she will give no 
cause for jealousy. A man is a brute to be jealous of a 
good woman, and a fool to be jealous of a worthless one, 
but he is a greater fool to ruin his happiness and destroy 
his life by jealousy. 

Trifles light as air, 
Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ. 

— Shakespeare. 





CHAPTEE XXV. 




1 ■■■ ■ -. :. 

mm' -'ms 



m 



___« *__ 



T7>nrUT ABILITY OF yATTRAT. LAW. 

AXJSE and effect are beyond all controversy 
and cavil laws of nature, ordained by nature's 
God. The latter always follows the former. 
3| and from this rule there is no departure, from 
jjj this decree there is no appeal absolutely no 
ape from its consequences. 
To illustrate : I burn my hand by intro- 
ducing it into a flame of fire : I have tt 
violated a law. and the penalty is iuflic: 
upon me for that violation by bodily suffei - 
ing. " If one member suffers, all the members 
suffer with it." A child is begotten m lust, 
matured amid the gratifications of sensual passions, and 
the penalty is as sure to follow as it is to place the hand 
in a flame. I readily admit there is a difference of time 
in the execution of the penaL:~. - in one case the pen- 
alty follows immediately, while in the other it is indefi- 
nitely postponed, because of the enormity of the crime 
and the complex and far-reaching nature of the violation. 

he who has sai I " I will reps \" has invested the laws of 

138 






IMMUTABILITY OF NATURAL LAW. 139 

nature with vengeance, and there is no way by which we 
can escape its consequences. 

" Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy 
heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the 
ways of thy heart and in the sight of thine eyes." What 
license is here given to the young to indulge their 
appetites and passions. What ! does God give us all 
these unspeakable privileges to enjoy? Yes, for here 
comes in man's free moral agency. God has said, The two 
paths are before you, which will you choose ? " Choose ye 
this day whom ye will serve. If the Lord be God, fol- 
low him, but if Baal then follow him." 

This, then, implies that we have the power to choose 
or to refuse, to do right, or to perpetrate wrong. '•Re- 
member that for all these things God will bring you unto 
judgment." 

We often hear it said that there are exceptions to 
every rule or law. Nothing is more at variance with 
facts and truth than this proposition. A chain of circum- 
stances and conditions always operates to produce the 
same results. Thus, two and three always equal five, 
first and last, and they cannot, by or under any circum- 
stances, be made to depart from this result. 

~No law r s can be violated with impunity, for all viola- 
tions bring their penalty in proportion to their diversity 
and enormity. The same rule holds good in regard to 
all" laws, either social, civil, religious, or national. What 
brought Nineveh and Babylon to their shameful tomb ? 
Let us observe that, while Belshazzar with his impious 
rulers of provinces was desecrating the holy vessels of 
the temple in drunken revelry, the conquering army 



14:0 iabu'tability of natueal law. 

came in through the two-leaved gates in the Euphrates, 
and conquest was as complete as the king's consternation 
at the mystic words of flame transcribed upon the gor- 
geous purple curtain of his princely palace, which was 
the signature of his death-warrant by Jehovah's hand, 
which signified that for his wrong-doing the Medes and 
Persians should usurp Ms throne. 

Justice is the unchanged everlasting will to give each 
man his right, is in the preface of the great book of law, 
and if that right be happiness or punishment, it will be 
meted out to him. 

There are rights that individuals and corporations and 
states must observe, or they shall suffer for that wrong. 
In view of the penalties for violations of law and the 
perpetration of wrongs, one of our great American agi- 
tators thus exclaimed : 

" Thou muse-like Grecian queen, fairest of all thy 
classic sisterhood of states, enchanting yet the world with 
thy sweet witchery, speaking in art and most seductive 
song, why liest-thou there with beauteous, yet dishonored 
brow, reposing on thy broken harp? n 

From the wrecked empire comes the following re- 
ply : "I scorned the law of God, banished and poisoned 
wisest, justest men. I loved the loveliness of flesh, em- 
balmed it in the Parian stone, I loved the loveliness of 
thought, and treasured it in more than Parian speech, but 
the beauty of justice, the loveliness of love, I trod them 
down to earth. Lo, here have I my recompense, tor- 
mented with such a downfall/' 

The prowess of nations is not so much in their num- 



IMMUTABILITY OF NATURAL LAW. 



141 



bers as in the principles of right by which they are gov- 
erned, and the dignity of the national character. 

" The loss of a firm national character, and the deg- 
radation of a nation's honor, is the inevitable prelude to 
her destruction." 

" Behold the once proud fabric of the Roman empire, 
an empire carrying its arts and arms into every part of 
the habitable globe." " But the ramparts of her national 
pride were broken down, and vandalism desolated her 
classic fields." When national crimes tower up to 
heaven in impious pride, they are blown down by the 
breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irre- 
trievable ruin. " Pride goeth before destruction, and a 
haughty spirit before a fall." 

Through storm and calm the years have led 

Our nation on from stage to stage, 
A century's space until we tread 

The threshold of another age. 

— W. C. Bryant. 




CHAPTEE XXYI. 



A PLEA FOR JUSTICE.* 




HE world had almost lost sight of justice, as 
an element of either divine or human govern- 
ment. An effeminate party and a one-sided 
philanthropy had sprung up, which in their 
sympathy for the criminal had well nigh for- 
gotten the victims of his crime, which, in their 
willingness to shelter the guilty from evils 
which they justly merit, would flood the inno- 
cent with far greater evils. Then did God 
bring our country into one of those straits 
which His wisdom has devised to teach the 
nations a truth, by making them feel its neces- 
sity. Then were the demands of justice acted out 
before our eyes, on the broad stage of a continent, and with 
an audience, it was one of the grandest dramas of human 
history. Then was the leaven of justice kneaded into 
this nation with the iron knuckles of war. When an im- 
periled country cried out for help — when men, maddened 
with the loss of power, and " with reversed ambition " 
seeking to perpetuate a wicked and baleful institution, 




*The Rev. John F. Smith, A. M. 



142 



A PLEA FOR JUSTICE. 143 

had well nigh rent in sunder the fairest heritage of earth, 
more than two millions of loyal citizens came forth from 
mountain homes and prairie cabins, from town and city, 
from farm and workshop, from humble cottages, and from 
palatial homes, and offered to fill that rent with their 
bodies, and cement it with their blood. Did humanity 
disown the deed ? Nay, rather even did tender mothers 
and loving wives and sisters, with hearts all torn with 
anguish, dam up the fountain of their feelings, and speed 
on the heroes with the words, This country is worth 
more than your lives. * * * And now, when the 
end has been secured, when the rebellion has been 
quelled, and when the perpetuit} 7 of this beneficent gov- 
ernment, and the welfare of untold millions of coming 
ages demands the sacrifice of the authors of all these 
calamities, what arm shall stay the uplifted sword of jus- 
tice? Think you that mothers who have offered their 
own sons on the altar of their country, will count rebel 
lives too dear? From ten thousand desolated homes 
comes forth the response, Let it be. From a hundred 
thousand stricken hearts, wandering in mournful dreams 
over hundreds of battle fields seeking for buried loved 
ones, is heard the answer, Let it be. Yea, every lover 
of his country, he who wishes to promote patriotism 
and virtue in the present, or to secure happiness to the 
future, responds amen ; yea, rather the heart, the 
judgment, and the conscience of humanity cry out : 

"Is there not some hidden curse, 

Some secret thunder in the stores of heaven 
Big with uncommon wrath, to blast the man 
That seeks his greatness in his country's ruin?" 



144 



A PL£A FOB JUSTICE. 



In circumstances like these, the dictates of justice are 
the dictates of love. Then love herself bids mercy stand 
aside: for mercy to the guilty is cruelty to the innocent. 




CHAPTEK XXVII. 




WOMAN S EIGHTS. 

N taking a general survey of this work one 
fact in connection with it affords much satis- 
faction, which is a knowledge that we have 
been prompted by right and proper motives 
in preparing this volume for the press. The 
knowledge and general information we have 
been able to glean from many sources we 
freely leave for those who shall come after us, 
and if it shall become the means of assisting 
any to break from the thraldom of pernicious 
habit, we shall feel that we have not labored 
in vain. 
Some of the subjects herein treated, although not new, 
yet the medical profession have been strangely and 
almost criminally silent upon them, and we quote as our 
apology for speaking thus plainly the old adage, that des- 
perate diseases call for desperate remedies. A knowledge 
of those great social and private evils may result in their 
cure. Knowledge is power, and we believe that ignor- 
ance in this era with the facilities for education which 

we enjoy, and the many avenues open to us from which 
10 145 



14'» Man'- SIGHTS. 

~: mav obtain knowledge, savors too strongly of the 
sluggard and the imbecile. Know thyself, is an injunc- 
tion which we desire to sound and reiterate in the ears of 
every inquirer after ultimate truth. 

Agreeably to our expressed desire, we lay before the 
inquiring mind this little volume as a stepping-stone to 
much that is essential, and tends toward ultimate suc- 
cess in finding out ourselves. A knowledge which if not 
prostituted will elevate mankind to a higher plane in the 
physiological and scientific world, and by a systematic 
observance of the laws of health, will add much to the 
longevity of the human race. TTith regard to the subject 
of Woman's Rights^ of which so much has been said and 
written, we wish to say that we shall bestow upon it but 
a cursory glance, and a few brief remarks. "While we 
concede this point, that very many ladies are better qual- 
ified and more competent to transact business in an 
office of trust than some of the falsely so-called lords of 
creation, yet we fail to see the point where any right- 
thinking woman, who ever had the faintest conception of 
her work and calling could think she was elevating her 
position by descending to the level of man. thereby agree- 
ing to meet him upon an equal footing in the forum and 
the field. The enfranchisement of woman would be :. 
serious compromise of her position, and detract materially 
from the protection so unanimously accorded to her by 
the sterner sex. 

"Woman is strong in her weakness. To illustrate : A 
rose-bush is blossoming upon the lawn just outside our 
open window, and its generous odor is silently wafted 
upon a truant zephyr and greet- ns in the seclusion of our 



woman's rights. 147 

study when w T e suddenly remember to have seen it for 
many days nearly crushed and obscured by a grow r th of 
thistles and noxious weeds, and we are forcibly im- 
pressed with the beauty of its character as we realize 
that it is thus scattering its blessings so unselfishly even 
upon its enemies, who have nearly crow T ded it into ob- 
scurity. It emits its choicest fragrance when bruised and 
crushed. The secret power of its influence comes to us 
in its perfume like a silent w T ail for protection, and we at 
once set about redressing its wrongs, and with a merciless 
hand w T e hew down the thistles and exterminate the roots 
of those vile weeds w T hich have thus wantonly insulted 
the queen of flowers. We do not hear the rose tree 
wrangling for its rights, but the silent eloquence of its 
perfume penetrated our hearts and enlisted our sympa- 
thies in its behalf. So the perfume-breathing spirit of 
the wife or maiden with the meek brown eyes 

In whose orbs a shadow lies, 
Like the dusk of evening skies, 

Exerts a much greater influence over society even just 

Standing with reluctant feet, 
Where the brook and river meet. 

so to speak, than if in her enfranchisement she held in 
her hand the destiny of empires and swayed the scepter 
of despotic authority over a confederated world. The 
secret pow r er and influence of woman's beauty unfits her 
for becoming man's opponent in the political realm. 
" Socrates called beauty a short-lived tyranny ; Plato, a 
privilege of nature; Theocritus, a delightful prejudice; 
Aristotle affirmed that beauty was better than all the 



148 woman's eights. 

letters of recommendation in the world ; but as regards 
the elements of beauty in woman, it is not too much to 
say that no woman can be beautiful by force of features 
alone; there must be as well sweetness and beauty of 
soul. Nearly all the old philosophers denounced and 
ridiculed beauty as evanescent, worthless and mischievous; 
but alas ! while they preached against it they were none 
the less its slaves. None of them were able to withstand 
" the sly, smooth witchcraft of a fair young face/' A 
really beautiful woman is a natural queen in the universe 
of love, where all hearts pay glad tribute to her reign. 

"Nature in many other works has scattered her 
beauty with an unsparing hand, but none of them 
impress so strongly upon the mind the idea of beauty as 
the female countenance. The flower may be more deli- 
cate in its formation, and may show more exquisite 
color — the wide-spread meadow may display its beauty, 
and fields and groves and winding streams may varie- 
gate the scene; yet all that is here presented fades 
before the female countenance. In the countenance of 
man there is a certain majesty of look, if we may so 
term it, which is not found in the other sex ; but where is 
that softness, that sweet, heavenly smile that plays upon 
the countenance of the true lady? where is that splendor 
that dazzles the eye of the beholder — that expression 
which baffles all description % As among females there 
are some which are superior to others, so there are also 
some seasons when the female countenance excels in 
loveliness. I have seen her shine in the ballroom and 
in all the vivacity and splendor of the assembly, partak- 
ing in the common gaiety and enjoying the pleasures of 



woman's rights. 149 

the scene ; I have seen her at the fireside attending to the 
management of the domestic concerns, while her presence 
seemed to banish care, and her converse enlighten the 
family circle. I have seen her reposing in gentle sleep 
when her eye was unconscious of my look — when the 
gentleness of her slumbers told that innocence was 
throned within her breast ; but never yet did I behold 
woman so lovely as when affliction had rent her bosom 
and chased the smile from her cheek. Affliction, how- 
ever, though it had deprived her countenance of its 
vivacity, had given a softening expression to her features, 
which added to her loveliness. Her eyes were uplifted 
in calm resignation, as if imploring help from Him who 
is the father *of the fatherless, and the comforter of the 
afflicted." 

The most fascinating women are those that can 
enrich the every-day moments of existence. In a partic- 
ular and attaching sense, they are those that can partake 
of our pleasures and our pains in the liveliest and most 
devoted manner. Beauty amounts to very little without 
this. Where the mouth is sweet and the eve intelligent 
there is always a look of beauty if the heart be right. 
Beauty without virtue is a flower without perfume. 
Virtue is the paint that can smooth the wrinkles of age. 
An old w T riter observes, " That to make a perfectly beau- 
tiful woman it w r ould be necessary to take the head from 
Greece, the bust from Austria, the feet from Hindostan, 
the shoulders from Italy, the walk of a Spanish woman, 
and the complexion from England." At that rate she 
would be mosaic, and the man who married her might 
well be said to have taken up a collection. 



u 



V --' - BI.rET^ 



The violet will soon fade. The lore that has not hing 

_ 

but beauty to sustain it soon withers away. A pretty 
woniau pleases the eve. a good woman the heart. The one 
is a jewel, the oth^r a treasure. Invincible fidelity, good 
humor, and complacency of temper outlive all the charmsT 
of a fine face, and render the decay of beauty invisible. 

From the ephemeral flower (beauty) springs many of 
the ingredients of matrimonial unhappiness. It is a dan- 
gerous gift for both its possessor and its admirer. Beauty 
of countenance, which is the light of the soul shining 
through the face, is independent of features or complex- 
ions; it is the most attractive as well as the most enduring 
charm. Xothing but talent and amiability can bestow it. 
no statue or picture can equal it. and time itself cannot 
destroy it. " Beauty, dear readers, is the woman you love 
best, whatever she may seem to others." 

M Personal beauty is a letter of recommendation writ- 
ten by the hand of God." but very frequently is it dishon- 
ored by its possessor. An enemy of beauty is a fee t 
nature. We are always less ready to admit the perfection 
of those for whom our approbation is forestalled, and 
many a woman has appeared comparatively plain in our 
eyes from having her charms extolled, whose hee 
might otherwise have been readily admitted. 

Xature seldom lavishes many of her gifts upon one 
subject. The peacock has a very poor voice : the beauti- 
ful japonica has no odor, and belles often are not over- 
loaded with intellect : beauties sometimes die old ma: Is : 
they set such a value on themselves that they fail to find 
a purchaser until the market is closed. a She who studies 
her glass neglects her heart." A beautiful woman, if 



woman's rights. 151 

poor, should be doubly circumspect, for her beauty will 
tempt others, and her poverty may tempt herself. 

Many and varied are the female charms that conquer 
us. " Sometimes we find a woman whose strength, like 
Samson's, is in her hair," a second holds your affections 
by her teeth, and a third is a Cinderella, who captivates 
by her pretty little foot. But she is the most beautiful 
woman whom we love most. An author says, " There are 
two sorts of persons which refuse to be comforted ; a rich 
man who feels himself dying, and a beautiful woman who 
notices with apprehension and unrest that time, the thief, 
is stealing away the nameless charm of youth and 
beaut}^. As flowers fade, and waters flow to the ocean, 
so youth and beauty pass away, and our years hasten on 
to eternity. Woman in her own sphere will ever be 
acknowledged and appreciated by man, in proportion to 
her virtues, amiability and accomplishments. 

Our country is convulsed by an internal revolt, or an 
external invasion ; and man, because of the secret power 
of woman's worth and beauty providentially secures for 
her a place of safety in the interior as far as possible from 
the din of battle, while he goes to the front to face the 
enemy, and measure arms with the invader of his country 
and fireside, and finds in man upon the ensanguined field 
a f oeman worthy of his steel. Many times during our late 
American war have been found upon the field, after the 
carnage had subsided, cold in death, men with their hands 
pressed upon their heart, where was found a photograph 
of some loved one, or a clustering curl of her hair, satu- 
rated with the dews of death. He had cast himself a 
a sacrifice upon the altar of his country, and in defense of 



152 WOMAN'S KluHTS. 

his idol, and these mementoes found upon his heart indi- 
cated the shrine at which he worshiped. 

Woman's enfranchisement would speedily result in the 
most prolific source of her wrongs, she would become 
degraded from the lofty position assigned her by God as 
an helpmeet, by stepping out of her sphere and becoming 
man's opponent. This feature would sow a new and fer- 
tile element of discord in every family. A certain physi- 
cian has said : ; ' The greatest danger now menacing 
American society is the living in hotels and boarding 
houses, and the loss of the restraining and purifying asso- 
ciations which cluster around the hearthstone. 

" What remains of the family is onlv held together bv 
the graces and virtues of woman, and the facilities for 
obtaining divorces are fast breaking down this last hope." 
The same writer has said that when the family virtues 
are gone, the nation goes too. or ceases to be worth pre- 
serving. 

In view of those anticipated deteriorations of society 
who would not almost wish to plume the wing of virtue 
and hasten its flight far over those sun-lit mountains of 
eternity to bathe itself forever in the pure radiance 
emanating from the eternal throne ? 

a woman's question. 

Do you know you hare asked for the costliest thing 

Ever made by the hand above — 
A woman's heart, and a woman's life, 

And a woman's wonderful love ? 

Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing 

As a child may ask for a toy ? 
Demanding what others have died to win, 

With the reckless dash of a hov ? 




PARADISE PARK. 
153 



woman's rights. 155 

You have written my Lessons of duty out, 

Man-like, you have questioned me — 
Now stand at the bar of my woman's soul 

Until I shall question thee. 

You require your mutton shall always be hot, 

Your stockings and shirts shall be whole ; 
I require your heart to be true as God's stars 

And pure as heaven your soul. 

You require a cook for your mutton and beef, 

I require a far better thing — 
A seamstress you're wanting for stockings and shirts, 

I look for a man, and a king. 

A king for a beautiful realm called home, 

And a man that the maker, God, 
Shall look upon as he did the first, 

And say, " It is very good." 

I am fair and young, but the rose will fade 

From my soft, young cheek one day — 
Will you love me then, 'mid the falling leaves, 

As you did in the bloom of May ? 

Is your heart an ocean, so strong and deep 

I may launch my all on its tide ? 
A loving woman finds heaven or hell 

On the day she is made a bride. 

I require all things that are grand and true, 

All things that a man should be ; 
If you give this all, I w 7 ould stake my life 

To be all you demand of me. 

If you cannot do this — a laundress and cook 

You can hire with little to pay ; 
But a woman's heart and a woman's life 

Are not to be won that way. 

—Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



CHAPTEK XXYIII. 



MARRIAGE. 

HEEE is no city, there is scarcely a town or 
county, which, does not number by the dozen 
among its inhabitants women who have mar- 
ried on short acquaintance, only to be abused, 
deserted and left a life-long sorrow in the 
families in which they were reared. If young 
ladies would only realize how grossly in- 
delicate, as well as culpably careless such 
marriages appear to the eyes of the observ- 
ing, they surely would forbear. A year's 
thorough acquaintance with the most cir- 
cumstantial accounts from disinterested and 
reliable witnesses of the antecedents from childhood are 
the very best guarantees of which any woman who 
realizes what marriage is will require of a stranger. 
Even then, if her parents are not fully satisfied as well 
as herself, she should still hesitate. Marriage is an 
undertaking in which no delay can be so hazardous as 
undue precipitation. 

The holiest bond into which two human beings ever 
entered is that of marriage. It would be easy to show 
that to both sexes and to our common civilization 
Christian marriage has been as elevating and ennobling as 

156 




MARRIAGE. 157 

it is holy. Upon it also must depend purity of lineage 
and harmony of blood relationships. To show how 
superior are all its influences it would only be neces- 
sarv to contrast the people who practice monogamic 
marriage with those who indulge in polygamy. The 
sturdier physical stamina, the higher and more active 
intellect, the braver industry and enterprise, the loftier 
virtues and the purer moralities, will all be found with 
the races and communities that have put on the Chris- 
tian marriage curb. Enervation and decay are stamped 
upon all the nations in which the companionship of the 
sexes is not regulated by the Christian rule. And of all 
things tending to corrupt the influence and lessen the 
sacredness of this true marriage principle, none are so 
blighting and deadly as undue facilities for annulling 
the marriage tie. Many an incompatibility of temper 
would have been smothered and other domestic differ- 
ences have been buried, instead of having been nursed to 
quenchless feud, had there been less accessible legal 
avenues to divorce. The facilities provided by indiscreet 
legislation have been the prime cause of thousands of 
separations and family wrecks, which would not other- 
wise have occurred. Therefore do we rejoice that in 
some of the states of our union where divorce has been 
easily obtained a better sense has influenced the law- 
makers to amend their statutes so as to give greater 
sanctity and security to the marriage tie. 

We hold, in the very nature of things, as well as from 
a careful consideration of human nature and the social 
historv of the world, that the two chief bulwarks of civ- 
ilization and humanity — as, indeed, of all virtuous prog- 



15S MARRIAGE. 

ress — are the sacred observance of Christian marriage 
and the Christian Sabbath. When the honeymoon passes 
away, setting behind dull mountains, or dipping silently 
into the stormy sea of life, the trying hoar of married 
life has come. Between the parties there are no more 
illusions. The feverish desire for possession has gone, and 
all excitement receded. Then begins, or should begin, the 
business of adaptation. If they find they do not love each 
other as they believed they did, they should double their 
assiduous attentions to one another, and be jealous of 
everything which tends to thrust them asunder. Life is 
too short to waste in open feuds, and too precious to 
waste in secret regrets. And let me say to everyone 
from whom this romance of life has fled, to begin this 
reconciliation at once ; renew the attentions of earlier 
days ; acknowledge your faults one to another, and be 
governed by a determination to do right ; and you may 
yet find, even in this relation, the sweetest joy earth has 
in store for you. There is no effort too costly to make 
which can restore to its setting in the heart this missing 
pearl. 

How to secure this happiness in married life, is a bold 
question to ask, and a difficult problem to solve. Some de- 
termined celibate might say. " you might with as much 
propriety ask how to find the philosopher's stone, or the 
elixir of perpetual youth, or the eutophia of perfect 
society. " The prime difficulty in the case is entire 
thoughtlessness, the want of consideration, common sense 
and practical wisdom. Not only young persons contem- 
plating marriage — which includes all between the age of 
eighteen and thirty-five — but also many married people 



MARRIAGE. 159 

have a vague notion that happiness comes of itself. They 
wait for certain dreams elysian to be fulfilled by beatific 
realities. Happiness does not come of its own accord, 
nor by accident. It is not a gift, but an attainment. Cir- 
cumstances may favor but cannot create it. In every 
paradise there is a forbidden fruit, some tree of knowl- 
edge of good and evil ; and unless the serpent, the temp- 
ter, be kept out, the enjoyment of Eden will be as short 
now as it was when the first married couple lost it. 
Even where everything promises well, prudence and fore- 
sight are needed to prevent fatal mistakes, and moderate 
expectations should be encouraged . to avoid serious dis- 
appointments. Perhaps the best general rule is not to 
expect too much ; for as long as men and women con- 
tinue to be human, and not cherubim and seraphim, the 
annoyances and vexations of life cannot be avoided. 

But such advice to those who stand or mean to 
stand by the hymeneal altar falls upon dull ears, and 
every coupled pair flatter themselves that their experi- 
ence will be better and more excellent than that of any 
w T ho have gone before them. They look with amaze- 
ment at the tameness, coldness, estrangement and com- 
plainings, which spoil the comforts of so many homes, as 
at things which cannot by any • possibility fall to their 
happier lot. But like causes produce like effects, and to 
avoid the misfortunes of others, we must avoid their 
mistakes. The first duty of the husband is to provide 
a home. " God taketh the solitary men and setteth them 
in families"; that does not mean in boarding houses or 
hotels. Home life is the proper and normal condition of 
marriage, and they who have no home of their own are 



160 MARRIAGE. 

not much better than half married, after all. The most 
important experience of the new relation is to become 
well acquainted w r ith each other. The acquaintance of 
courtship is a very one-sided affair, both parties seeing 
through that peculiar atmosphere which magnifies vir- 
tues, changes deformity into beauties, and renders the 
discovery of faults impossible. 

But experience teaches that the work of mutual 
adaptation is precisely the thing they have to learn, to 
understand each other's peculiarities and tastes, weak- 
nesses and excellences, and by self-discipline and kind- 
ness on both sides to receive and impart a modifying 
influence, bringing them nearer each other all the time, 
until, through this interchangeable moral and spiritual 
culture, the beautiful visions of "Love's young dream" 
are realized. This is by no means impossible. The at- 
tachment becomes continually more close, as a more 
perfect understanding of each other exists ; and the cur- 
rent of their affection will become deeper and stronger, 
though it may seem to flow more noiselessly and quietly 
along. 

But the hope of this which is unquestionably the best 
happiness the world affords, depends largely upon the 
manner in which the first few years of married life are 
spent, and the success with which its earlier and unavoid- 
able trials are met and overcome ; the only proper place 
for meeting these trials incident to early married life, is 
in one's own home. " In any other place they are met 
at disadvantage and with the complications of meddle- 
some gossip and officious kindness and gratuituous advice 
and lynx-eyed observation to discover, also satirical 



MAKKIAGE. 161 

tongues to report every neglect or fault with well dis- 
guised wickedness." 

There are innumerable things to be learned by botli 
parties in the performance of their arduous and untried 
duties. Indolence and gossiping have spoiled them for 
the happiness of domestic life and its attendant cares; 
and the husband and wife have learned not to depend 
upon each other for society, and having lost the opportuni- 
ty of that mutual accommodation to each other, of which 
we have just spoken, are partially unfitted for that 
exclusive, separate life, which wedlock is intended to 
establish. 

There are two things which we deem essential to the 
happiness of wedded life : First, to have a home of your 
own; and second, to establish it upon such a scale as to 
live distinctly within one's means — if possible, to make 
our necessities subservient to our circumstances. A large 
majority of the failures in wedlock can be traced directly 
to a neglect of the foregoing rule. No man can feel 
happy or enjoy the comforts of his own fireside, who is 
spending more than his income. Debt destroys his sell- 
respect, puts him at variance with the world, makes him 
irritable, ill-tempered and hard to please. By a proper 
care for his interests, a wife confers daily benefits upon 
her husband, she lessens and cheers his labors, increases 
his credit and insures his prosperity. " She will do him 
good and not evil all the days of her life." Do not, how- 
ever, infer that the social ambition which lives for show 
and not substance, that barters happiness for style — a 
birthright for a mess of pottage — by which American 
society is so deeply cursed, is chargeable chiefly to 



162 



MARRIAGE. 



woman. They may consent to it and even aggravate 
it, but the man is more responsible. It is the husband's 
business to regulate the expenses, and the wife will 
seldom urge him to go beyond his income. 

If we could get rid of this absurd social ambition, 
servitude to opinion and worship of appearances ; if 
young married people could only understand that in their 
home arrangements they themselves are the only ones to 
be consulted, it would be much easier to make home 
happy. There is no happiness, social, domestic or indi- 
vidual, without independence ; and no dependence is so 
humiliating as that of extravagance and debt. 

MARHJAGE. 

Hail, happy state ! which few have heart to sing, 
Because they found how faintly words express 

So kind, and dear, and chaste, and sweet a thing 
As tried affection's lasting tenderness, — 

Yet stop, my venturous muse, and fold thy wing, 
Nor to a shrine so sacred, rudely press ; 

For marriage, — thine is still a silent boast, 

Like beauty unadorned, adorned the most. 

— Tupper. 



BW 



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CHAPTEE XXIX. 




INFLUENCE OF MARRIAGE. 

HAYE speculated a great deal on the refin- 
ing and humanizing influence of marriage 
upon the world and society. I have seen 
young and beautiful women, the pride of gay 
society circles, married well, as the world 
says. Some have settled in their homes of 
luxury, and their friends have come and 
looked in at their splendid furniture and their 
comfortable home ; heard them express their 
anticipations of happiness, and have gone 
away and committed them to their sunny 
hopes, without a doubt and never a fear that 
clouds would ever arise to obscure the horizon of their 
radiant future. I love to get unobserved into a corner 
and watch the bride in her snowy attire, with her smiling 
face and iustrous eyes meeting me in the pride of life. I 
weave for her a Avaking dream of future bliss and joy, 
and pray God that it may be realized. I think how they 
will sit upon the luxurious sofa as the twilight falls, and 
build bright hopes and murmur in low tones the now 

unforbidden tenderness and the beautiful endearments of 

163 



1'A ::•"; 



\r i - -~ ' 



wedded life. I go forward a few years, and behold her 
luxuriant hair pnt soberly away from heF brow, and 
her girlish graces resigned for dignity and loveliness, 
chastened with the gentle meekness of maternal affection. 
Her husband looks on with a proud eye, and shows the 
same fervent love and delicate attentions which first won 
her, and their fair children are grown about them; they 
go on full of honor toward that verdant landscape of the 
evergreen shore, to reap and glean the golden harvest of 
a perfect life. 

Marriage is to woman at once the happiest and saddest 
event of her life. It is a promise of future bliss, ereo:r 
upon the tomb of all past and present enjoyments, while 
the rainbow of promise spans with its tri-colored arch 
their entire future of joy and sorrow. Buoyed up with 
the confidence of requited affection, she bids a fond adieu to 
the life of the past, and flies with joy into the untrodden 
paths before her, and turns with excited hopes and joyous 
anticipation toward the happiness to come. Then woe to 
the man who can blight such hopes, who can coward- 
like break the illusions that have won her and destroy the 
confidence which his love inspired ! Marriage is a school 
and exercise of virtue ; though wedlock hath its cares, yet 
celibacy hath its desires, which are more dangerous, and 
often end in sin. Marriage is the proper scene of piety 
and patience. Marriage is the nursery of heaven. I: 
hath in it the labors of love and the tender delicacies of 
friendship, the blessings of society and the union of hearts. 
It hath in it more safety than the single life; it hath 
more care, and is replete ^rith joys. Marriage is the 
moaner of tiie ~::oi an:I preserves kingdoms: :: makes 



INFLUENCE OF MARRIAGE. 105 

cities populous and fills heaven itself. Voltaire said : 
" The more married men you have the fewer crimes there 
will be." Marriage renders a man more virtuous and more 
wise. An unmarried man is but the half of a perfect 
being. In nine cases out of ten, where married men be- 
come drunkards or commit crimes against the peace of 
the community the foundations of these acts were laid 
while in a single state, or where, as is sometimes the case, 
the wife is an unsuitable companion. Marriage changes 
the current of a man's feelings, and gives him a center for 
his thoughts, his affections and his acts. It is pleasant to 
contemplate the associations clustering around the wed- 
ding morn. It is the happiest hour of life, and breaks 
upon the young heart like gentle spring upon the flowers 
of earth. It is the hour of bounding, joyous expectancy, 
when the ardent spirit arming itself with bold hope, looks 
with undaunted mien upon the dark and terrible future. 
It is the hour when sober thought dons the livery of good- 
ness, and humanity looking from its tenement across the 
broad common of life, shakes off the heavy load of sor- 
didness, and eagerly swings to its shoulder the light and 
joyous burden of love and kindness. 

We cordially echo the sentiment. "Happy morn, 
garmented with human virtues, it presents life to the 
eye, lovely as if * * * clad in the beauty of a 
thousand stars." 

Bulwer says "that even when the fair spring of youth 
has passed, and when the active life is employed in such 
grave pursuits that the love of his early years seems to 
him like a dream of romance, still that love, having once 
lifted him out of egotism into sympathy, does but pass 



166 INFLUENCE OF MARKIAGE. 

into new forms and development; it smiles upon him 
from his home ; it rises up in the eyes of his children ; 
from his heart it circulates insensibly on, to all the laws 
that protect the earth. Thus in the history of the world 
we discover that wherever love is created, as it were, and 
sanctioned by that equality between the sexes which the 
permanent and holy union of one heart with another 
proclaims, there, too, patriotism, liberty — the manly and 
gentle virtues — also find their place; and wmerever, on 
the contrary, polygamy is practiced, love disappears in the 
gross satiety of the senses, there we find neither respect 
for humanity, nor reverence for home, nor affection for 
the natal soil. One reason why Greece is contrasted in 
all that dignifies our nature, with the effeminate and disso- 
lute character of the East which it overthrew, is that Greece 
was the earliest civilized country in which, on the bor- 
ders of those great monarchies, marriage was the sacred 
tie between one man and one woman, and man was the 
thoughtful father of a happy home, instead of the 
wanton lord of a seraglio." 

Steele says: "Wherever woman plights her troth, 
under the sky of heaven, at the domestic hearth, or in 
the consecrated aisles, the ground is holy, and the spirit 
of the hour is sacramental. That it is thus felt even by 
the most trivial may be observed at the marriage cere- 
mony. Though the mirth be fast and furious before or 
after the irrevocable formula is spoken, yet at that point 
of time there is a shadow on the most laughing lip, a 
moistness in the firmest eye. "Wedlock indissoluble, ex- 
cept by an act of God — a sacrament whose solemnity 
reaches to eternity — will always hold its rank in litera- 



INFLUENCE OF MARRIAGE. It) 7 

ture as the most impressive fact of human experience, in 
dramatic writing, whether of the stage, the closet, or 
romantic literature. If government, with all its usurpa- 
tions and aggressions, has appropriated history, let the 
less ambitious portions of our literature be sacred to the 
affections; to the family based upon conjugal and par- 
ental love, as that institution is the state which hitherto 
in the world's annals has been little else than the expo- 
nent of human ambition." 

In Edinburg a short time ago Dr. Stark read a paper 
on the influence of marriage on the death rate of men 
and women in Scotland. Dr. Stark based his calculations 
on the statistics issued by the register-general, and 
brought out results which to a great measure he believed 
were now presented for the first time. He first showed 
the results in the case of men. He found that from 
twenty to twenty -five years of age, the death rate of 
bachelors was exactly double that of married men. From 
twenty years of age to the close of life the average age 
attained by the unmarried was forty years, while that of 
the married was fifty-nine and a half years, giving the 
married nineteen and a half years longer to live than 
the bachelors. The same statement is true in regard to 
the married and single females. 

But marriage should in no case be entered upon with- 
out a thorough knowledge of its physiological laws, else 
much domestic misery may be expected. Neither should 
it be entered into for the sake of worldly gain, or through 
the promptings of the lower passions. 




CHAPTEK XXX. 




CELIBACY. 



BACHELOE, if he is possessed of a fertile 
imagination, has a subject of much impor- 
tance before him while speculating upon his 
probable future fate. "While he is making 
| up his mind as to which lady he shall offer his 
heart and hand, he roams amid the beauties, 
in a harem of the imagination, a sort of a men- 
tal polygamist." If in that chair yonder — 
not the one your feet lie upon — but the other 
beside you — closer yet — were seated a sweet- 
faced girl, with a pretty little foot lying cut 
upon the hearth, a bit of lace running around 
the throat, and her hair parted to a charm over her fore- 
head, fair as any in your dreams, and if you could suffer 
your fingers to play idly with those curls that escape 
down the neck, and clasp with your other hand those lit- 
tle white taper fingers of hers, which lie so temptingly 
within your reach, and talk so soft and low, while the 
flickering firelight casts fantastic shadows about the 

room, and the hours slip away unnoticed, and the winter 

168 



CELIBACY. 109 

winds whistle uncared-for — if, in short, you were not a 
bachelor, but the husband of such a sweet image — dream, 
call it, rather — would it not be far pleasanter, than upon a 
cold night in single blessedness, to sit counting the sticks, 
reckoning the length of the blaze and the depth of the 
fallen snow ? 

Surely imagination would be purer if it could have 
the playful fancies of dawning womanhood to delight it. 
All toil would be torn from mind-labor, if but another 
heart grew into this present soul, quickening it, 
warming it and cheering it, ever bidding it God speed. 
Her face would make a halo rich as a rainbow above all the 
noisome things which lonely souls call trouble. Her 
smile would illuminate the darkness that seats you des- 
pondent in your solitary chair for days together, those 
bitter fancies and dark and gloomy dreams would grow 
light, and spread and float away, cheered by that beloved 
smile. Your friend poor fellow, dies — never mind ; that 
gentle clasp of her fingers, as she steals behind you tell- 
ing you not to weep, is worth ten friends. Your sister 
dies, your mother is called to her reward, and in your 
loneliness you think that earth is only a place upon 
which to dig graves, but it is more, she says she will be a 
sister ; and the golden curls as she leans upon your shoul- 
der, touch your cheek, and your wet eyes turn to meet 
those other eyes, and you think God has surely sent his 
angel to you in this hour of need. And then these fair- 
haired, rosy-cheeked children — no, they do not disturb you 
now; they are yours, and the perfume of their dear lips is 
worth more to you than all the flowers in the world. All 
your bachelor amusements sink into insignificance in con- 



1 TO CELIBACY. 

trast, and she, the mother, sweetest and fairest of them 
all, in her self-sacrificing care, weighs upon the heart with 
a burden of thankfulness ; and a feeling of gratitude w T ells 
up in the heart for these unspeakable thank offerings. 

" Bachelors may be known by their unpolished 
manners and lack of buttons, while married men by 
their ease in the society of ladies, and their domestic- 
looking countenance/' A judicious wife is always chip- 
ping off from her husband's moral nature those little 
twigs that are growing in the wrong directions. She 
keeps him improving by continual pruning. If you say 
nothing silly, she will affectionately tell you so. If you 
declare you will do some absurd thing, she will find some 
way of preventing your doing it. And by far the 
greatest part of all the common sense in this world 
belongs to woman. The wisest things a man often does 
are those things his wife counsels him to do. 

We do not wish to see everybody against the poor 
bachelors, but this is taken into consideration by life 
insurance companies — when they deem them worth 
insuring. We do not wish to be understood as saying 
that to the command, " multiply and replenish the earth," 
is attached the promise that " thy days may be long in the 
land," etc ; but it seems, so far, a fact, that if bachelors 
wish to recover an average of twelve years of life, or 
such part thereof as may not already be forfeited, they 
should make haste to obey nature's law. Celibacy 
seems to be one of the capital offenses against the re- 
quirements of nature. 

Once again, there is no misery so distressing as the 
desperate agony of trying to remain young, with gray 



CELIBACY. 171 

hair and wrinkles on face and brow loudly proclaiming 
the march of time. I am personally acquainted with an 
old bachelor who has attempted it, and his affectation of 
youth, like all affectations, is a melancholy failure. He 
is a rapid young man of fifty years. He plies innocent 
young ladies with pretty compliments, and soft nothings 
which were in vogue when he was a spoon}' youth of 
twenty summers. The fashion of talking to young ladies 
has changed within thirty years, and this aged boy's 
soft twaddle seems as much out of date as a two-year-old 
bonnet. When you witness his old-fashioned young- 
antics, his galvanic gallantry, so to .speak, and hear the 
speeches he makes to the girls in their teens, when he 
should be talking to them more like a father, you invol- 
untarily pronounce him an old idiot. It is a melancholy 
absurdity. A person cannot be old and young at the 
same time, only once in life 'tis given to be untried and 
gushing and superlative, and when the time comes for it 
all to go, no effort on our part can keep back the fleeting 
days. 

" How I wish I had married thirty years ago," solilo- 
quized an old bachelor. " Oh ! I wish a wife and half a 
score of children would start up around me, and bring- 
along with them all that affection which we should have 
had for each other by being early acquainted. But as 
it is, I care for nobody, and the world is about even 
with me, as nobody cares for me." 

A bachelor editor says : " We never cared a cent 
about getting married until we attended an old bach- 
elor's funeral. God grant that our latter end be not like 
his." 



CHAPTEE XXXI. 




DRESS. 



|E do not regard the love of dress in woman 
as anything wrong. It has been made 
a subject of ridicule by many, and with 
very little cause. The organization of 
woman fits her for indoor labors, as that 
of a man for labors in the field, the 
workshop or on the ocean ; and with the 
organization Providence has kindly joined 
a taste which makes labor a pleasure. The 
labor of the former is not all toil; there is 
enjoyment in physical exertion, indepen- 
dent of financial benefit, enjoyment in the increasing 
and fertility of his lands. A woman is employed year 
after year in household labors, in the care of her chil- 
dren and in providing clothing for her family. Suppose 
that this were all merely a work of necessity, that 
she took no interest in the appearance of her children, 
had no taste for dress, and no regard for the look of 
her home — what a wretched life hers would be! 
Providence, by giving her those general tendencies of 
taste which enable her to enjoy the employments by 
which she must be occupied, has scattered sunshine 
and lioAvers intermixed along the otherwise hard and 

172 



DRESS. 17'J 

dreary path she is destined to travel. This taste for 
her duties may be indulged to excess until it becomes 
a passion. "If taste for dress and fashion be frivo- 
lous" we fail to see wherein it is more so than a 
taste for handsome houses and horses, and well 
ordered gardens and neatly cultivated fields. Dress 
to a woman of taste is as much one of the fine arts 
as painting. "But," says one, "she dresses to secure 
frivolous admiration." This is a cruel injustice. Most 
women are anxious about dress because they see it 
pleases brothers or sisters or husbands. 

No doubt, too much attention is given to dress, or 
rather, it is too much a matter of imitative fashion, and 
too little a matter of personal taste. We believe the 
making of a garment is as intellectual an employment 
and as conducive to domestic happiness, furnishing as 
good a school for taste, as the traffic of the merchant or 
the labor of the mechanic. We see a mother arraying 
her child in a becoming garb; she delights to see it 
arrayed in clothing to contrast harmoniously with its 
heaven-born beauty. We think quite as well of the taste 
cultivated in dress, as of that which growing outside of 
the routine of ordinary duties and cares of household 
life, seeks its gratification in any of the other fine arts. 
Where it is a real taste in dress, growing out of an 
admiration for the beautiful, and is not a selfish craving 
for the display of a votary of fashion, a woman will 
show it as much at home in her own family, as when 
abroad in company. Though in the secret of her chamber 
alone, it will still appear, because even there she cannot 
endure to come in contact with that which offends her 



1 74 DRESS. 

refinement or is antagonistic to her appreciation of the 
beautiful. And this delicacy of taste which appears in 
dress, in manners, as also the ordering of her household, 
will make a humble dwelling a palace, and cheap mater- 
ials ornamental, and in the orderly habits indicated by 
such taste will have much to do with the culture and 
happiness of all beneath her roof. 

If we observe nature closely, we shall see that with 
her, the purposes of dress are use and beauty ; now she 
wears a mantle of snow to shield her from the piercing 
cold ; and again an emerald robe besprinkled with flowers. 
At such a time how lovely she appears ! Then her children 
rejoice in her beauty. Dress affects our manners. A man 
who is badly dressed has those unpleasant sensations of 
heat and cold at the same time as though attacked by 
malaria. He stammers and does not always tell the 
truth, although he is trying to. He is half distracted 
about his pantaloons, which seem too short at both ends, 
and is constantly pulling them both ways. He treads on 
the train of a lady's dress and says " thank you " instead 
of " I beg pardon, maddamP " He sits down on his hat 
and wishes the desert were his dwelling place." 

The influence of costume is incalculable, yet dress does 
not make the man. We do not value the gem by the 
metal it is set in. A man in the finest suit of clothes is often 
a shabbier fellow than another dressed in rags. Rags 
make a royal robe if worn in possession and protection of 
virtue. But hqw many have sold their virtue for fine 
clothes, and their honor for the gewgaws of fashion ! 
Beauty in dress is a good thing, rail at it who may ; 
but it is a lower beauty, for which the true beauty of 



DRESS. 175 

spirit should never be sacrificed. Garments of beauty 
may cover, but they can never impart worth to abandoned 
character. 

The medium between a dude and a sloven is about 
where a sensible man should keep in regard to his 
clothing. " When a stranger treats me with a lack of re- 
spect," said a poor philosopher, " I comfort myself with 
the reflection that it is not myself he slights, but my old 
and shabby coat and hat, which, to speak truthfully, have 
no particular claim to adoration." Beauty gains little, and 
homeliness and deformity lose much by gaudy attire. 
Ly sander knew this was true, and refused the rich gar- 
ments that Dionysius, the tyrant of Syracuse, proffered 
to his daughter, saying " they are fit only to make un- 
happy faces more conspicuous." A man is first judged 
by his dress, afterward by what he turns out to be. 

It has been said that he is a brave man who is not 
afraid to wear old clothes until he is able to pay for new 
ones. There are truer marks of beauty which never 
change. The sparkling eye, the coral lip, the rose leaf 
blushing on the cheek, and the elastic, bounding step : 
these are always in fashion. 





CHAPTEK XXXII. 



EXTRAVAGANCE. 

|XTKAYAGAIsrCE in living is rapidly becom- 
ing the besetting sin of all our large Ameri- 
can cities. In fact, it is getting to be one of 
our national characteristics, and even foreign- 
ers who visit us and are familiar with the 
luxurious habits of the upper classes of Euro- 
pean society, are astonished at the reckless- 
ness with which Americans now spend their 
money. In many respects things are differ- 
ent with us from what they were in former 
times, the days of simplicity and frugality, 
when our fathers were content with the gains 
of a legitimate business, and honesty among the commer- 
cial classes was the rule rather than the exception. 

The great trouble now is that the personal and family 
expenses of a large portion of our business men, during 
the past few years, have increased much faster than their 
business and prospects will warrant, The private dwell- 
ings of our citizens become each year more spacious, and 
ambition and rivalry exhaust the supply of distant quar- 
ries to furnish material to gratify their vanity. Luxury 

176 




EXTRAVAGANCE. 177 

and self-indulgence are unfavorable to the physical, intel- 
lectual and moral strength of any people. Such indul- 
gence tends to effeminacy. 

The Hon. John A. Dix, in a recent lecture before the 
Historical Society, made the following remarks: "No- 
thing can be more unwise than the erection of costly 
dwellings, which can only be maintained by princely 
fortunes. At the death of the head of the family, and a 
division of the ancestral property, no one of the children 
as a general rule gets enough to support the establish- 
ment, and it passes into other hands. Nothing can be 
more cruel than to bring up children' with expectations 
which cannot be realized, and with habits of life which 
they are compelled to abandon. Look for the splendid 
mansions of thirty years ago, and see how many of them 
remain in the possession of the families who constructed 
them. Many of them are boarding houses, places of 
public exhibition, or the workshops of fashion." 

The art of living easily as it regards money is to pitch 
your scale of living one degree below your means or 
income. Those who live for the future must always 
appear penurious to those who live for the present. The 
miser grows rich by seeming poor ; an extravagant man 
grows poor by pretending to be rich. He that accustoms 
himself to buy superfluities may ere long be obliged to 
sell his necessaries. Confine your expenses, or they will 
confine you. He that spares in everything is a niggard ; 
and he that spares in nothing is extravagant — neither of 
which can be generous or liberal. An extravagant man 
will no more keep an account of expenditure than a sinner 
will examine his conscience. A person who squanders 



EXTRAVA rAJ 



his fortune in riotous living is just neither to himself nor 
to others. The prodigal has as little charity as the miser, 






^Ix- 



spent bring grief to our heart, sorrow 



to our iririic.s and misery t<: : Lrii'i. 




5fc .'* V 




;&&v 



CHAPTEK XXXIII. 




IDLENESS. 



VERYTHING in or around us proclaims that 



it never was designed for man to live in idle- 



ness. Our own health and the comfort and 
welfare of others require that w r e should labor. 
All the faculties of body and mind suffer 
alike, and rust out by idleness. The idler is a 
nuisance in the world, and can be dispensed 
with as well as any other clog to the wheels 
of progress. If we sow the seeds of idleness 
we shall reap the tares of poverty and shame. 
There is no such thing as a violation of this 
law and evading its consequences, for the pen- 
alty will be enforced whether we are pleased or not. 

Thomas Carlyle has said in some of his works that 
" the world has one monster — the idle man." If idleness 
does not produce vice or malevolence, it commonly pro- 
duces melancholy. Let every man be occupied in the 
highest employment of which his nature is capable, and 
die in the consciousness of having done his best. 

No greater foe to human health and happiness exists 
than idleness and its accompanying condition, ennui. The 

idle should not be classed among the living ; thev are a 

179 



180 IDLENESS. 

sort of dead men that cannot be buried. The proud and 
haughty, who can be seen daily strolling up and down 
the street in idleness, who engage in no useful employ- 
ment or honorable calling, but as drones in society, sup- 
ported by the legacies of their ancestors, are but little 
aware of their own insignificance and the utter contempt 
entertained toward them by the active and energetic class 
of people who live and thrive by their own exertions, 
the honest, open-hearted sons of toil, who live not only to 
enjoy themselves, but to benefit their generation, orna- 
ment the world and honor their creator. Idleness is the 
nursery of crime. It is the field where " the enemy sows 
tares, while men sleep." There are very few who know 
how to be idle and innocent. By doing nothing we learn 
to do mischief. An idle brain is the devil's workshop. 
The Turks have this proverb, that " the devil tempts in- 
dustrious men, but that idle men tempt the devil." 
" Solon made idleness a crime, and insisted that each 
citizen should give an account of the manner in which 
he earned his livelihood." Epaminondas, Prince of 
Thebes, had such a hatred to idleness that upon finding 
one of his captains asleep in the daytime he slew 
him. And on being reproved by his nobles for the act, 
he replied : " I left him as I found him," thus comparing 
idle men to dead men. " This we command you, that if 
any will not work, neither should he eat." — 2 Thess. 
iii, 10. 

Not one in twenty of the idle men have trades. This 
fact alone should teach parents the necessity of giving 
their sons a trade, which will in a measure render them 
independent. The bird that sits is easily shot, when 



IDLENESS. 181 

flyers escape the fowler. Idleness is the dead sea that 
swallows up all virtues, and the self-made sepulcher of 
a living man. The idle man is the devil's hireling, 
whose livery is rags and whose diet and wages are 
famine and disease. Idleness travels very leisurely, and 
poverty soon overtakes her. Poverty and pride are in- 
compatible companions, but when idleness unites them 
the wretchedness is unspeakable. 

Men grow old faster from having nothing to do than 
from overwork. The running machine will keep bright 
for years — the idle machine will soon rust out. To be 
idle and poor have always been reproaches ; and, there- 
fore, every man endeavors with the utmost care to hide 
his poverty from others, and his idleness from himself. 
Only the sluggard and the coward rail against fortune. 
The mind, like the body, wearies more from the lack of 
action than from excess of it. " Go to the ant, thou slug- 
gard; consider her ways and be wise." Excellence is 
providentially placed beyond the reach of indolence, that 
success may be the reward of industry, and idleness be 
punished by obscurity and disgrace. Indolence leaves 
the door of the soul unlocked, and thieves enter and spoil 
its treasures. " I cannot find bread for my family," said 
a lazy fellow. " Nor I," replied an industrious man, " I 
am obliged to work for it." " The sluggard that will not 
plow by reason of the cold, shall therefore beg in harvest, 
and have nothing." 

We may be idle, but the stream of time still bears us 
on. We may be shipwrecked, but we cannot be detained, 
for the rapid river rushes us onward until the roar of the 
ocean is in our ears, and the surging waves beneath our 



182 IDLENESS. 

feet, and we take leave of earth and its inhabitants, and 
of our future voyage and destiny there is no one knows 
save the Infinite and the Eternal. How like a voyage 
is human life, and he who would live to some purpose 
should live industriously; '• Work while the day lasts, for 
behold, the night of death cometh." 

Men seldom think of death till the shadows fall across 
their path; then remembrance goes like a resurrectionist 
to the graves of our past crimes and exhumes their skel- 
etons. The tinsel of subterfuge has fallen away — self- 
deception is no longer possible. We may shrink from 
the foul offspring of our misguided souls, but dare not 
repudiate our " covenant with death and our agreement 
with hell which shall not stand." 

The soothing scenes of life are as opiates which first 
excite and then leave us sleepy and indolent, but we are 
still drifting outward to the ocean. 

Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate; 

Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Learn to labor and to wait. 

— Longfellow. 





CHAPTER XXXIY. 




YOUTH, HOPE, AND LOVE. 

YOUTH and Hope and Love, formed for 
companionship ye are ! wherefore, wherefore 
must ye part ? Gentle sisters ye are ; why 
must the bonds that unite you be severed? 
Bright is the wreath with which your brows 
are crowned ; why must it fade so soon — O 
why should youth wear the mark of age, and 
hope be lost in the dark garment of despair, 
and love die beneath the breath of worldly 
policy % Go ask the summer flowers that 
open their petals to the morning light, and 
shed their fragrance on the evening breeze, 
and a voice from their midst answers, " It is His will 
who made us." "Ask that bright plumed bird that 
wounded and bleeding sinks to earth, and does not its 
parting breath whisper, It is His will ?" Ask the stars 
that nightly gem the ethereal vault of heaven, and ten 
thousand voices will answer, 
His will. — Mrs. J. Thayer. 



It is His will — ay, it is 



183 



CHAPTEK XXXV. 




HUMAN LIFE. 



N" considering this subject under the simili- 
tude of a mammoth theater of Comedy and 
Tragedy wherein all the phases of Mirth, 
Magic and Madness are combined, we view 
| this world as the stage, nature for scenery, and 
its inhabitants the actors who play their part, 
then shuffle off the stage behind the scenes 
amid the plaudits of admiring multitudes, for 
having played well their part in life, and 
flowers which breathe perfume are strewn 
upon their pathway as their sun declines. 
"While others bow them off the stage in dis- 
grace amid the hisses and imprecations of disappointed 
spectators. 

This great drama of human life has been in progress 
since first this gorgeous stage of the world was built, 
since this narrow "isthmus of time" lying between the 
two eternities of the past and future, was spoken into 
existence by the fiat of the Eternal. "The earth was 
without form and void, and darkness was upon the face 
of the great deep." Let the dry land appear, was heard 
reverberating over the watery waste, and it was so. At 

the command of God, uprose from out the seething bil- 

, 184 



HUMAN LIFE. 185 

lows of the eternal waters this wondrous stage with all 
the grand paraphernalia for enacting the dramas of life, 
according to the inexorable law and design of nature's 
God. 

O wondrous power in a word! Let there be light, 
and lo! the sun swung high in heaven's blue dome, 
Great Chandelier, to light the universal stage of nature, 
while flowers of every hue bloomed bright as footlights, 
and that grand old orchestra, the morning stars, sang to- 
gether for joy. Gladness was over alL The little birds 
piped forth their sweetly plaintive notes between the 
acts, while man, behind the somber curtains, prepared to 
act some tragic scene with which to overwhelm the anx- 
ious and expectant audience. 

The first great voluntary act which hushed the harps 
in heaven's choir, and caused the now mute morning 
stars which early sang their joy to blush in shame be- 
hind a crimson cloud, was an act of disobedience. It was 
a tragic act, because it sealed the doom of millions then 
unborn. There was the first law given under the most 
auspicious circumstances, and there 'twas broken. " In 
the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die." And 
so God drove them out to till the soil and earn their food 
by sweat and labor. 

But soon the curtain rises upon another act, when 
Cain lifts his hand against his unoffending brother and 
smote him down to earth, and the shadow of the first 
grave darkened with its gloom this ruined world. Trag- 
edy and comedy follow each other in such quick succes- 
sion that joy and sorrow meet, and smiles and tears em- 
brace each other. 



186 HUMAN LIFE. 

Vex not thyself with imaginary fears, for the im- 
pending black cloud which is regarded with so much 
dread may pass harmlessly by, or break in blessings on 
thy head. Beware of desperate steps ; the darkest day may 
by tomorrow have passed away. Aim to play well thy 
part in this great drama, for millions of eyes in this great 
universal auditorium are upon you, and your success de- 
pends upon the manner in which you apply yourself to 
the duties incumbent upon you. There are dark hours 
that mark the history of the brightest years. " Into all 
lives some rain must fall," as there have ever been cold 
and stormy days in every year. 

What matters it, then, as man is not born a hero, 
but shall only wear the laurel wreath of fame and 
glory, as he wins it for himself. The unattained and 
sublime heights which ever beckon the aspiring onward, 
are attainable and may be reached. Those adamantine 
bulwarks surrounding the summit of fame as an im- 
pregnable fortress, will yield to earnest and persever- 
ing endeavor. Never despair, for the dark cloud of seem- 
ing destiny is surely wafting thee onward to those 
peace-crowned heights. 

Has fortune, the fickle jade, deceived you, and the stern 
tyrant adversity, roughly asserted his despotic power to 
tread you down, meet it with thy firm manhood in 
honest combat, and it will only increase thy strength. 
Has the malevolent whisper of slander attacked thy 
good reputation, be sure it comes from beneath thee, not 
from above ; some envious one wishes to drag thee down 
to his own level. Yield not to the influence of sadness, 
or the blighting power of dejection, for all these things 



HUMAN LIKE. 187 

are woven in the warp and woof of the drama of thy 
life. 

The appeal for volunteers to take part in the great acts 
of life, in exterminating ignorance and error, and planting 
high on an everlasting foundation the banner of intelli- 
gence and truth, is directed to you u whether you will 
hear, or whether you will forbear." Let no cloud again 
darken thy spirit, arouse ambition's smoldering fires, and 
in the majesty of noble manhood, " throw thy soul wide 
open to the light of reason and of knowledge." Burst 
the trammels that impede thy progress, and cling to hope. 
The world frowned darkly upon all who ever yet won 
fame's wreath. There are those who have watched unre- 
warded, through long years, for the dawning of a brighter 
morrow, when the weary soul should calmly rest. But 
hope's bright rays still illume their dark pathways, still 
they watch. Press on ! Press nobly on, ascend the mount- 
ain, breast the gale, look upward, onward, never fear, 
and victory shall be thine. 

Choose and play well that character in life's drama 
which will endear you to the great audience, and leave 
behind an untarnished reputation as an example for imi- 
tation. And when the last great tragic act shall have been 
consummated, and nature's curtain falls over the closing 
scene, the everlasting doors of heaven may be lifted up 
to welcome thee to endless rest, amid the joyous acclama- 
tions of heaven's host, and God shall sav Well done. 



I 




CHAPTER XXXYI. 




♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ 




FRIENDSHIP. 

HE mind naturally seeks to commingle with 
kindred spirits. It seeks too for greater 
scope — for a higher and holier state; and 
^1 in congenial societ} r , where high moral prin- 
ciples prevail, it finds food for promoting 
its growth. Therefore we should cultivate 
the ties of friendship and strive to enlarge 
that communion of spirit whereby we are 
made better. "We should strive the more to 
cultivate and merit the friendship of those 
whose worth shines preeminent in their char- 
acters, making them patterns of excellence for others to 
admire and emulate. 

Friendship is the most sacred of all moral bonds. 
The trust of confidence, without any stipulation or cau- 
tion, the very nature of which is as sacred as though 
guarded and protected by a thousand articles and condi- 
tions. Friendship is but one of the manifold modes of 
expressing the universal brotherhood of our race. All 
nations are bound together in a deep and everlasting bond 
of fraternity and love, the harmonious and universal ex- 

188 



FRIENDSHIP. 189 

pression of which if carried out would inaugurate the 
long-hoped-for millennium. 

This fraternal sentiment, paradoxical as it may seem, 
underlies all antagonisms, social strife and personal anti- 
pathies. All complicated war and inhuman massacre 
would disappear from the earth if men in all their dis- 
putes would take into consideration the law of eternal 
justice and equal rights. 

If the military heroes who broke each other's skulls 
had made friends beforehand it would have been just as 
cordial and enduring. The following is a brief descrip- 
tion of their feud and friendship: .Lieut. Montgomery 
had seen military service. But now the wars were 
over, and he had nothing to do but to idle away 
his time at his hotel, and while taking his ease one 
day he observed a stranger gazing at him intently. 
Montgomery appeared not to notice the intrusion, 
and shifted his position. The stranger took up his 
position opposite, and continued to gaze intently. " Do 
you know me ?" said the lieutenant, approaching the for- 
eigner. " I think I do," was the reply of the stranger, who 
was evidently a Frenchman. " Have we met before ?" con- 
tinued Montgomery. " I think we have," was the stranger's 
reply, " and if we have you have the scar of a deep saber 
wound upon your right wrist." Turning back his cuff he 
displayed an ugly-looking scar. " I did not take this for 
nothing, I assure you, for the brave fellow received in return 
for his bravery a gash across the skull." The Frenchman 
removing his hat, remarked as he bent his head, " Sir, see if 
this is not your signature to the receipt," as he exhibited 
the wound alluded to. The next moment they were 



190 FRIENDSHIP. 

clasped in each other's arms, and they became true friends 
for life. Friendship is a flower that blooms in all seasons ; 
It may be seen nourishing on the snow-capped mountains 
of Russia, as well as the more favored valleys of sunny 
Italy. No surveyed chart, no national boundary line, no 
rugged mountain, or steep declining vale, can place a 
limit to its growth. Wherever it is watered by the dews 
of affection or kindness, there it is sure to flourish. Like its 
twin-sister charity, it enters the abode of wretchedness 
and sorrow, and causes joy and peace; its all-powerful in- 
fluence hovers over contending armies, and binds those 
engaged in deadly combat in bonds of sympathy and 
kindness. Its eternal and universal fragrance dispels 
every poisoned thought of envy, and purifies the mind 
with a holy and priceless contentment which all the 
wealth and pomp of earth cannot bestow. 

True friendship can only be found to bloom in the soil 
of a noble and self-sacrificing heart ; there it has a 
perennial summer, a never ending season of felicity, in 
exercising toward all, true faith, hope and charity. 

Friendship, thou charmer of the mind, 

Thou sweet deluding ill, 
The sweetest moments mortals find, 

The keenest pains they feel. 

— Anon. 





THE ARTIST. 



191 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 




HUMAN NATURE. 



;wa.WAi 



^VERY man is a volume, if you knew how to 
read him. There is a great deal depends on 
the expression of the countenance; the face 




m is the index of character and soul. Love, 



purity and truth silently mold the face till 
it wears a God-like expression ; and falsehood, 
malice and uncleanness indelibly stamp the 
features with the image and superscription of 
the prince of evil. Physiognomy is a very 
interesting branch of science. Continued, 
mental labor affixes its signet upon the 
features. 
Orville Dewey, in one of his lectures on the 
Problem of Human Destiny, remarks: "The expression 
of the face is a beautiful distinction of humanity. We 
are little aware of the influence it constantly exerts. 
How extraordinary, too, the difference of expression in 
the human face, by which the recognition of personal 
identity is secured. On this small surface, nine inches by 
six, are depicted such a variety of traits that, among the 
millions of the inhabitants of earth, no two have the 




18 



193 



194: HOIAX NATDKE. 

same lineaments. What dire confusion would ensue if 
all countenances were alike! if parents did not know 
their own children by sight, nor husbands their wives ! 
But as it is, we could pick out our friends from the mul- 
titudes of the universe." "Nature," says Thackerav, 
" has written a letter of credit upon some men's faces, 
which is honored almost wherever presented." 

The mouth is a feature upon which very much of the 
character of the face depends. Firmness, general decis- 
ion, cruelty, gentleness of mind, love of our fellows, 
eloquence, spite, generosity and strength of character, are 
all indicated by the mouth. 

It is said of Xapoleon that he selected his officers 
from the length of their noses. iSTapoleon used to say : 
; * Strange as it may appear, when I want any good hard 
work done, I choose a man, providing his education has 
been suitable, with a long nose. His breathing is bold 
and free ; his brain, as well as- his lungs and heart, are 
cool and clear. In my observation of men, I have almost 
invariably found a long nose and a long head together." 
ATe can correctly judge of the spirit and disposition of 
a man by his gait and deportment when walking. 

The man of strong impulses, of pushing, lively tem- 
perament, the active man who is ever trying to rise in 
life — sanguine, bold and alert — walks with a springing 
step ; looks rather above the heads of his fellow pedes- 
trians with his head set lightly on his shoulders; his 
mouth a little open ; his eye is bright, restless and pene- 
trative ; his form is erect without stiffness, but has some- 
thing of defiance in his bearing, but is not haughty. 
Observing persons move slowly ; their heads move alter- 



HUMAN NATURE. 195 

nately from side to side. Calculating persons generally 
walk with their hands in their pockets, and their heads 
inclined slightly forward. Careless persons are forever 
stubbing their toes. Dignified men move slowly and 
carry themselves erect. Yenturous persons try all roads, 
and frequently climb the fence instead of going through 
the gate. 

A young man flatters himself that he is "studying 
human nature," when he visits all kinds of low, vile 
resorts, and the various haunts of vice which a great city 
affords, as if human nature, sunk beneath masses of 
moral filth and blackened by contact - with dissipation 
and crime, were especially worthy the student's attention 
as representative of our race ; the idea is an insult to our 
manhood. Some have found pearls covered with filth, 
and diamonds obscured by the rubbish and debris of 
wrecked humanity. But we have no sympathy with that 
morbid curiosity, that affectation of studying human na- 
ture, which leads so many young men into places where 
such an excuse is necessary in order to retain a semblance 
of decency and respectability. 

" Is there not as much human nature to be studied in 
the decent walks of life, where nature is natural and not 
forced out of virtue's path by suffering and desperation ? 
He who seeks truth and falsehood, virtue and prostitu- 
tion combined, would attempt to mingle light and dark- 
ness, to blend discord with harmony, which is a direct 
challenge to immutable law, and would 'associate the 
Son of God with the prince of darkness,' and hurl defi- 
ance at the eternal throne." 

The law of the universe is a law of consistency, and 



196 



HUMAN NATURE. 



should become the law of refined human nature, for con- 
sistency in all our sayings and doings would soon restore 
the lost and faded blooms of Eden, and fling " hope's hal- 
cyon halo " over the weary wastes of earthly life. 

Then gently scan your brither man, 

Still gentler sister woman; 
Though they may gang a-kening wrang, 

To step aside is human. 

—Burns. 




CHAPTER XXXYIII. 



FUTURE PROSPECT. 

IFE must become light if it will not change 
itself into a lethargic sadness, into an actual 
death. In this gloomy disposition of mind 
man cannot prepare himself for immortality; 
because he understands it not, and does not 
strive to make himself Avorthy of it. We 
call to mind moments of departed pleasure 
more vividly than the past hours of sorrow. 
This is a hint that life was dear to us. Death 
must not be regarded as a liberation from 
prison; it is only a step out of the valley to 
the top of the mountain, where we may reap 
the rich fruition of harvesting and garnering the results 
of a well spent life. If we have reached the higher plane 
of manhood we shall eternally breathe its perfumed 
atmosphere. If we have by our acts and words inspired 
a mortal with a desire to rise higher in the scale of moral 
being, it will be a golden brick in the pavement of the 
streets of our new Jerusalem. If we have cast the golden 
pebble of truth into the liquid past, producing little wave- 
lets of aspiration in any heart for a higher altitude in 
human perfection, that little wave shall widen its circles 

until it breaks in the majesty of a God-like endeavor at 

197 




198 FUTURE PROSPECT. 

the foot of the everlasting hills, and dash its crystalline 
spray up to the foundations of the eternal throne. If we 
have kindled a flame of hope, love and light upon the 
cold heart-altar of the desolate and despairing, it will 
prove a fiery pillar to light us in triumph through the 
dark valley. If we have scattered seeds of kindness with 
a pure heart here in life they shall blossom into bright 
and fragrant flowers to dot the sylvan glades and dewy 
dells of our eternal existence. If we love truth because 
it is true, and do right for the sake of right rather than 
from fear of punishment, then are we God's children in 
deed and in truth. The remembrance of our wrong doing 
is our punishment, and the memory of our good deeds 
and kind acts will help to constitute a heaven of endless 
duration. If we learn properly to understand and love 
life we shall rightly understand and enjoy eternity. 

The spark of life is like a spark of fire ; 

It flashes forth its beauty, and is gone ; 
So dies the minstrel, leaving fancy's lyre 

Bereft of heart, and chords, and song, and tune. 

— Anon* 




CHAPTEK XXXIX. 



THE L0VEE. 

HITHEE daily in rain and sunshine, came the 
solitary lover as a bird that seeks its young 
in a deserted nest; again and again he 
haunted the spot where he had strayed with 
the lost one; again and again he had mur- 
mured his passionate vows beneath those 
fast-fading limes. Are those vows destined to 
be ratified or annulled ? Will the absent forget 
or the lingerer be consoled? Had the char- 
acters of that young romance been lightly 
stamped on the fancy where once obliterated, 
they are erased forever? Or were they graven 
deep, where the writing even though invisible still exists 
and revives sweet letter by letter when the light and 
warmth borrowed from one bright presence is applied to 
that faithful record? 

There is but one wizard to disclose that secret, as all 
others: the old grave digger whose church yard is the 
earth — wmose trade is to find a burial place for passions 
that seemed immortal — disinterring the ashes of some 
long-crumbling memory, to hollow out the dark bed of 

some new-cherished hope ; he who determines all things 

199 




2 



THE LuYEK. 



gazing upon the beauty of the earth, but. alas ! it now 
and prophesies none : for his oracles are uncomprehended 
till the doom is sealed : He. who in the bloom of the 
fairest affection detects the hectic that consumes it. and 
while the hymn rings at the altar, marks with his joyless 
eye. a ^rave for the bridal vow. 

And wherever is the sepulcher. there is thy temple, 
oh. melancholy time. — Bulwer. 








CHAPTEK XL. 




THEN AND NOW. 

HAT a contrast is presented to our minds by 
those two words, Now and Then / * * * 
Then our sky was all one sheet of pure 
blue, unclouded by suspicion or cynicism. 
It beheld the clear beauty of its truth re- 
flected in the limpid lake, aud believed the 
reflection or appearance of sincerity to be 
another sky or reality charming as itself. 
It listened, therefore, to the ardent words of 
friendship which the running water mur- 
mured. It gazed with wonder upon the world 
below, and fancied all was beautiful and clear 
as itself, and it seemed to rejoice in its own 
peace and harmony ; but it could not long re- 
main cloudless. The surfaceof the stream 
became ruffled by the wind of a few angry 
words, and the beautiful image disappeared, leaving only 
to view the shallowness of the friendship of that little 
rivulet. The sky became troubled at the sight, and sought 
to relieve itself of the dark clouds of doubt, which were 
spreading themselves over its formerly calm surface by 

201 




202 THEN AND NOW. 

perceived what it had failed to detect before in the blind- 
ness of its innocence. It beheld the earth consuming 
with the lire of self-interest, policy and hypocrisy, and 
saw that even a great portion of it was already a shape- 
less mass of ruin and immorality. Then came the light- 
ning of a painful surprise, which flashed with a terrible 
glare, and the angry thunder roared in the heavens the 
sign of its wrath, for the pure surface of its innocence 
revolted at the horrible clouds of deceit and wickedness 
which it saw enveloping all that was pure and good. The 
rain of sorrow poured down in torrents from the sky, 
sorry because of its impotency in banishing those clouds 
or converting them into white fleecy flecks of honesty 
and truth. But as the sky could not always remain 
cloudless, so it could not ever continue somber. The 
lightning ceased its forked tongue of flame to flash ath- 
wart the heavens, the thunder, rumbling like the chariot 
wheels of warriors, rolled away to resound in other skies. 
The rain ceased to fall, and the darkest cloud has drifted 
away. And although our sky has never again assumed 
its charming blue unclouded, yet some of its clouds are 
beautiful crimson ones — with silver lining and flecked 
with gold — these are clouds of wisdom. This sky of the 
present has along its horizon the grayish-blue shading of 
experience for its background, and the golden glint in 
the far-off west is the tint of ripeness and maturity. Yet 
how willingly would we exchange our crimson sky of 
wisdom, with its beautiful golden tinting, for our former 
charming blue sky of innocence and trust. 




203 



CHAPTER XLI. 




A CHEERFUL FACE. 

EXT to the sunlight of heaven is the cheerful 
face, the bright eye, the unclouded brow, the 
sunny smile. All tell of that which dwells 
within. Who has not felt the electrifying 
| influence. One glance at that face lifts us out 
of the mists and shadows into the beautiful 
realms of hope. One cheerful face in a house- 
hold will keep everything warm and bright 
within. A host of evil passions may lurk 
around the door, but they never enter and 
abide there. There is something in that plain 
face, with its cheery smile, which sends the 
biood dancing through our veins for very joy. Ah ! there 
is a world of magic in that face. It charms as with a 
spell of eternity, and we would not exchange it for all the 
soulless beauty that ever graced the fairest form on earth. 
"We linger near its possessor and tenderly exclaim, God 
bless this dear happy face ! We must keep it with us as 
long as we can, for home will lose much of its brightness 
when it is gone. When care and sorrow snap asunder 

205 



206 



A CHEEEFTL FA 



the heart-strings, this wrinkled face looks down upon us 
and the way grows brighter and sorrow lighter. God 
bless the cheerful face ! What a dreary world this would 



be without this hea yen-born light. 





MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 




THE LAUGH OF A CHILD. 



|TKIKE with hands of fire, O weird musician, 
thy harp strung with Apollo's golden hair. 
Fill the vast cathedral aisles with symphonies 
sweet and dim, deft toucher of the organ's 
1 keys. Blow, bugler, blow, until thy silver 
| notes do touch and kiss the moon-lit waves, 
and charm the lovers wandering on the vine- 
clad hills. But know your music is discord 
I all, compared to childhood's happy laugh. Oh! 
rippling river of laughter, thou art the blessed 
boundary line between the beast and man, 
and every wayward wave of thine doth catch 
and drown some fitful fiend of care. O, rose-lipped 
daughter of joy, there are dimples enough in thy cheeks 
to catch, and hold, and glorify all the tears of grief. 

— Ingersoll. 

CHILDHOOD. 

The constant, inevitable but inferior evils, promptly 
improved, furnish a good moral discipline, and might in 

the days of ignorance have superseded penance and 

207 




- 9 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

pilgrimage. Life bears us on like the stream of a mighty 
river. Our boat at first glides down the narrow channel, 
gently amid the playful murmurings of the little brook, 
and along the serpentine windings of its grassy borders. 
The trees shed their snowy blossoms over our heads ; and 
the flowers offer themselves to our voung hands : we are 
happy in hope, and grasp eagerly at the beauties around 
us. but the stream hurries us on and our hands are still 
empty. Our course in youth and manhood is along a 
deeper and wider flood, and among objects more striking 
and magnificent. But the stream bears us ever on. and 
our joys and griefs are alike behind us. ^VTe eome into 
the world to spend the careless, fleeting moments of child- 
hood ; to drink in the elements of being and learn the 
rudiments of life. As the mother dresses her laughing 
child in a loose and homelv garment fitted to its thought- 
less and playful sports, so God has clothed us all in frail 
perishable bodies, fitted for the childish business of mortal 
life. The laugh of mirth which vibrates through the 
heart ; the tears which freshen the dry wastes within ; the 
music which brings childhood back: the prayer which 
brings the future near : the hardships which force us to 
struggle, and the anxiety which ends in trust — these 
the true nourishments of our natural being. But there 
are victories to be won more glorious than those which 
crimsoned Marathon or Waterloo. Evil habits may be 
subdued, fiery passions brought under the control of 
principle, and fife itself consecrated to high and holy 
endeavor. 

To triumph over the infirmities of nature and render 
fife once deformed by sin. beautiful with love, is 




DREAMING OF MOTHER. 



14 



209 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 211 

worthier our ambition than all the blood-wrought 
heroisms that ever linked a name to the world's remem- 
brance. What matters it now to those who have spilt 
rivers of blood to win for themselves an undying name. 
If life be a battle, how unwise to not endeavor to arm 
our children to go forth successfully to the conflict ! If 
life be a storm, how infatuated is he who sleeps while his 
bark is driven to certain shipwreck, amid unknown 
waters. If life be a pilgrimage, what folly to stray from 
the path of rectitude, nor seek to return till the twilight 
gathers round the pathway. Let parents remember this 
and bequeath to their children the legacy of a virtuous 
example, for this will speak more eloquently of duty than 
the tongues of men and angels. Beautiful as is child- 
hood in its freshness and innocence, its beauty is that 
of untried life. It is the beauty of promise — a hope of 
harvest; but a holier and richer beauty is the beauty 
which the waning life of faith and duty wears when the 
setting sun flings back its beams of golden glory upon 
the traversed table-land of life, and sheds a halo of light 
and peace upon the mountain peaks of that future and 
eternal existence. 

"The tear down childhood's cheek that flows, 
Is like the dew-drop on the rose : 
When first the summer breeze goes by 

And waves the bush, the flower is dry." 

CRUMBS. 

Truth crushed to earth shall rise again; 

The eternal years of God are hers; 
But error, wounded, writhes in pain, 

And dies among her worshipers. 



212 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

A virtuous man is more peaceable in adversity than a 
wicked man in prosperity. 

Prosperity gains friends, but adversity tries them. 

" Sweet are the uses of adversity." 

"Adversity is the only true balance in which to weigh 
a friend." 

What we call life is a journey to death, and what we 
call death is a passport to life. 

Life is the jailor of the soul in this earthly prison. 

Misfortune and misconduct were born twins. 

The great artist, Benjamin West, said : "A kiss from 
my mother made me a painter." 

Keep good company or none. 

Always speak the truth. 

Make few promises. 

Live up to your engagements. 

Keep your own secrets, if you have any. 

When you speak to a person look him in the face. 




EMBARKING. 



91 Q 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 215 

Good company and good conversation are the sinews 
of virtue. 

Your character cannot be materially injured except 
by your own acts. 

If one speak evil of you, so live that no one will be 
lieve him. 

Drink no kind of intoxicating liquors. 

Other men's woes are our warnings. 

Some, by attempting what they cannot accomplish, 
lose the opportunity of doing what they might. 

Self-love is not so great a sin as self-neglect. 

There is a Gaelic proverb which says: "If the best 
man's faults were written on his forehead, it would make 
him pull his hat down over his eyes." 

There are few men who would not be mortified, if 
they knew what their friends thought of them. 

He lives long who lives well. 

Sweep the snow from before your own door, and 
never mind the frost on your neighbor's roof. 



216 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

A man acquires more glory by defending than by 
accusing others. 

Believe not all you hear, nor report all you believe. 

' ' Believe not each aspersing word, 
As most weak persons do; 
But still believe the stor}' false 
Which ought not to be true." 

Have you been injured ? let the smiling angel of for- 
giveness find repose in your bosom, and you will be fully 
revenged. 

The error of one moment often becomes the sorrow 
of a whole life. 

He that hinders not a mischief when it is in his 
power is participant in the crime. 

Pride makes us esteem ourselves; vanity makes us 
desire the esteem of others. 

To be poor is more honorable than to be dishonorably 
rich. 

" Pleasures, like the rose, are sweet but prickly. 

Sinful pleasures blast the budding prospects of human 
felicity. 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 217 

"Still, where rosy pleasure leads, 
See a kindred grief pursue." 

" A lover of pleasure is not a lover of God. 

The greatest pleasure wealth can afford us is that of 
•doing good. 

By others' faults wise men correct their own. 

He who bets should expect to lose. 

A wager is a foolish argument. 

Luxurious living is the highway to poverty. 

The prodigal has as little charity as the miser. 

The discontented man finds no easy chair. 

Society is the atmosphere of the soul, where we inhale 
that which is healthy or infectious. 

In good society we are expected to do obliging 
things. In genteel society we are only required to say 
them. 

No man can avoid his own company ; so he had best 
make it as good as possible. 

"Indecent words allow of no defense, 
For want of decency is want of sense." 



218 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

The hardest thing to hold in the world is an unruly 
tongue. 

Never carry a sword in your tongue to wound the 
reputation of any man. 

Let a good thing be said well. 

A word once uttered can never be recalled. 

Is there then no death to a word once spoken ? 

Words are nice things, but they strike hard. 

"If wisdom's ways you wisely seek, 
Five things observe with care : — 
Of whom you speak — to whom you speak — 
And how — and when — and where." 

SILENCE. 

Says the Greek proverb, " Speech is silver, silence is 
gold." It is a remarkable fact that many of the most 
important operations of nature are carried on in unbroken 
silence. There is no rushing sound when the broad tide 
of sunlight breaks on the world and floods it with its 
molten, golden glory, as one bright wave after another 
falls from the mountain, millions of miles away. There 
is no creaking of heavy axles, or the labored groaning of 
cumbrous machinery as the solid earth performs her end- 
less journey. The great trees bring forth their boughs and 
shelter the earth, the plants cover themselves with buds r 




SOLITUDE. 
219 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 221 

then burst into bloom, but the mighty transformation is 
unheard. The change from winter to the blossoms, fruit 
and sunshine of summer is seen, but there is scarcely a 
sound to tell of the wondrous working of nature. The 
solemn chant of the ocean as it raises its eternal voice, 
the roar of the tornado, and the soft note of the evening 
zephyr, the rushing of the mountain stream, and the 
thunder of the black-browed storm ; all this is the music 
of nature — a great and swelling anthem of praise, break- 
ing in majesty upon the universal calm, then dying away 
in " symphonies sweet and dim " through the intermin- 
able aisles of nature's vast cathedral. Many of nature's 
most majestic workings are wrought in silence. And 
while standing in the presence of nature's awful and 
majestic operations we are awed to gaze in silent wonder, 
and in our best moods God's works command our silent 
admiration. On the shore of the boundless sea we gaze 
upon that eternity of waters, and commune silently with 
its greatness, and adore the omnipotence of its origin, 
and in the pathless forest the rustle of the leaves only 
makes us feel alone with God. 

The heaviest griefs are often borne in silence; the 
deepest love flows through the eye and touch ; the purest 
joy is unspeakable; the most impressive prayer is silent 
prayer, and the most solemn preacher at a funeral is the 
silent one, whose lips are still and cold. 

There is an eloquence -in silence which cannot be sur- 
passed, and in description of which one has fittingly said; 
"If a man would be eloquent upon his mother's grave 
let him be still and weep." 

" It was said by the ancients that if a silken thread be 



222 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

tied around a perfectly molded bell at the moment of 
sounding, the bell would burst asunder and shiver into a 
thousand pieces." So it is when a heart of perfect and 
delicate harmony in itself seeks to manifest its life among 
other hearts ; the slightest revulsion is sufficient to cloud 
the beaming countenance, sadden the heart and destroy 
the expression forever. * * * There is no expression 
for perfect happiness but perfect silence. It is not 
human enough for language, and the fullest concord of 
harmonious sounds is, after all, only a sigh after the 
Infinite. 

'No sound in the whole catalogue of earthly notes 
expresses unmixed joy but the laughter of a very young 
child, and we all know that changes to tears in a mo- 
ment. Yet if speech and sound are the voice of longing, 
so, after all, is silence, rightly understood, only the voice 
of wailing. ""When will the future come wherein the 
present shall satisfy the soul ? " 

When eye meets eye in silence bold, 

Language is shed like evening dew; 
The same old story then is told, 

Which chills and thrills and pleaseth, too. 

"Those who are familiar with Scottish history will 
remember the incident which inspired the faltering Bruce 
to become the saviour of his country. Lying in a shed, 
mourning over his fate, he saw a spider striving to reach 
the ceiling by a slender web. Again and again the reso- 
lute insect toiled up and fell backward. But the ceiling 
was its desired goal, and it returned each time with 
renewed vigor to the trial. Obstacles only stimulated it, 
and at length it triumphed. The despairing Bruce took 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. "2'2'-\ 

a lesson from the persistent insect; it gave him anew 
inspiration, and he went forth to beat back the Saxon 
invaders, to triumph over England, and to become a hero 
and a king." 

WITH A MORAL. 

The following beautiful allegory is translated from 
the German: Tophronious, a wise teacher, would not 
suffer his sons and daughters to associate with those 
whose conduct was not pure and upright. 

"Dear father," said the gentle Eulalia one day, "you 
must think us very childish when you imagine that we 
should be exposed to danger by these friendly asso- 
ciations." 

The father took in silence a dead coal from the 
hearth and handed it to his daughter, saying, "This 
will not burn you, my child." On handling the coal 
Eulalia observed her delicate hand was soiled, which 
caused her much vexation. 

" You see, my child," said the father, " that the coals, 
although they do not burn, will soil. So it is by min- 
gling in the company of the vicious, you will soon come 
to be like them." 

EARLY DAYS OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. 

It is worthy of remark that most men of genius have 
arisen from obscurity, or had their birth amid the humble 
and unostentatious classes, which is conclusive that there 
is no royal road to fame. Columbus was the son of a 
weaver ; and the house where the immortal Shakespeare 
was born was a humble dwelling of wood and plaster. 



224: MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

Benjamin Franklin was a printer. Claude Lorraine was a 
pastry cook. Oliver Cromwell was the son of a brewer. 
Daniel DeFoe was the son of a butcher. Demosthenes 
was the son of a cutter. Homer was once a beggar. 
Whitfield was the son of an inn-keeper. Terence was a 
slave. Barns was a farmer; the muses found him at his 
plow, and filled his soul with poetry. 

MEN HOLD THE REINS. 

Though men generally boast of holding the reins, yet 
the women can tell him which way to drive. 

Sheridan beautifully remarked : " Women govern us ; 
let us render them perfect; for the more enlightened 
they are, the more elevated we shall become. On the 
cultivation of the female mind depends the wisdom of 
men." A western orator says: " Woman wields the 
Archimedean lever, whose fulcrum is childhood, whose 
weight is the world, whose length is all time, and whose 
sweep is eternity." It has been very justly said that 
without female societv the beginning of our lives would 
be helpless, the meridian without refinement, and the 
close without comfort. 

Said the dying daughter of Ethan Allen to her 
skeptical father : "In whose principles shall I die — yours 
or those of my Christian mother's ? " The stern old hero 
of Ticonderoga brushed away a tear as he turned away, 
and with the same rough voice with which he summoned 
the British to surrender, now tremulous with emotion 
said : "In the principles of your Christian mother, my 
child. In the principles of your mother." 

When the Emperor Conrade besieged Guelpho. Duke 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 225 

of Bavaria, be would accept of no other conditions than 
that the men should remain prisoners ; but that the 
women might go out of the town on foot without 
molestation, with so much only as they could carry. 
When they contrived to carry out upon their shoulders 
their husbands and children, and even the Duke himself, 
the Emperor was so affected with the generosity of the 
action, that he treated the Duke and his people ever 
afterward with great humanity. 

" Feeling is a truer oracle than thought ; hence women 
are oftener right than men. When the heart is out of 
time, the tongue seldom goes aright. Keep thy heart 
with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." 

LETTER WRITING. 

Women are, or ought to be, the sovereigns of letter 
writing. They have just that easy, scrappy, dear, de- 
lightful, illogical way of putting things, which makes the 
charm of desultory conversation. What a, relief from 
the prosy bookishness of what is called "cultivated men." 
Cultivated — in that sense they are spoiled — trimmed 
down and rounded off to a dull, smooth monotony of 
ideas, prim, angular, proper and marvelously stupid. 

MEMORY. 

A certain author has said " that of all the gifts with 
which a beneficent Providence has endowed man, the 
gift of memory is the noblest. Without it life would be 
a blank, a dreary void, an inextricable chaos, an unlet- 
tered page cast upon the vast ocean of uncertainty." 



226 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

Yes; memory bath honey cells, 

And some of them are ours; 
For in the sweetest of them dwells 

The dream of early hours. 

— Flaccus. 

Hazlitt writes: "I have wanted only one thing to 
make me happy.'* He meant a friend. We are the 
weakest and most extravagant in things we should hus- 
band with the greatest care, when we lose a friend 
through inattention, or become angered at the plain 
speech of our friend who meant it for our good. "Faith- 
ful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy 
are deceitful." Would you throw away a diamond be- 
cause it pricked you I One good friend is not to be 
weighed in value against his avorrdiqxjis of the richest 
jewels of earth. While canvassing in Cincinnati in 1877 
with J. T. Floyd, he used often to say, "A good friend is 
too precious a thing to be held lightly, or carelessly lost ; 
life is too short to quarrel in.*' I have many times since 
thought of his words, and jind them true. 

AWAKENING. 

It is indeed an awakening ; the first moment in which 
the heart suddenly discovers that it is not estimated as it 
believed itself to be, whether in love or in friendship, 
overwhelms it with a kind of astonishment very hard to 
bear. 

To the change in the present and the future it may, 
perhaps, submit without complaining; but it is hard to 
be robbed of the past, which we had believed irrevocably 
our own, to look back with distrustful regret to the 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 227 

words, looks and tones, the interchange of thought, sym- 
pathy and confidence, to all of which a new interpreta- 
tion is now forcibly affixed, making us impatient and 
ashamed that we ever lent them any other significance ; 
to undo now, as it were by a retrospective act, the union 
which we now find had only an imaginary existence. 

LOST LOVE. 

Is there any anguish like that of losing love by a 
fault? — any pain like that slow bitterness which comes 
upon the heart, when the certainty of its actual loss be- 
comes fully perceptible to it 2 Reason said it must be so, 
imagination anticipated it, fear shrank 'from it, but love 
itself stood tremulous and unbelieving, till that certainty 
fell upon it and crushed it ; and then it lay still beneath 
the weight, stunned and motionless, but still alive, and 
living on forever, though living only to suffer ; but the 
great charm of existence is at an end. She neglects all 
those cheerful exercises that gladden the spirits, quicken 
the pulse, and send the tide of life in healthful currents 
through the veins. Her rest is broken — the sweet 
refreshment of sleep is poisoned by melancholy dreams — 
" dry sorrow drinks her blood " — until her enfeebled 
frame sinks under the last external shock. Look for her 
after a little, and you find friendship clad in sable robes, 
weeping over her untimely grave, and shuddering that 
one who so recently glowed with all the radiance of 
health and beauty should so soon be brought down to 
darkness and the tomb. 

You will be told of some wintry chill, some slight 
indisposition that laid her low — but no one knows the 



228 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

mental malady that all unseen sapped her strength and 
made her so easy a prey to the spoiler. 

Friendship's balmy words may feign, 

Love's are e'en more false than they. 
Oh! 'tis only music's strain 

Can sweetly soothe and not betray. 

— Moore. 

VANITY. 

Ostentation diminishes the merit of an action. He who 
is vain enough to cry Mmself up, ought to be punished by 
the silence of others. We soil and dim the splendor of 
our most noble actions, by our vain- glorious attempt at 
parading them before the world. There is no vice or 
folly which requires so much attention and skill to man- 
age, as vanity, nor any which by lack of management, 
makes us so ridiculous. The desire of being thought wise 
is often the hindrance of our being so ; a vain person has 
more solicitude about letting the world know what knowl- 
edge he hath, than he exhibits about acquiring that 
which he needs ; men are found to be more vain over 
qualifications which they think they have, than over the 
acquirements they really possess. "Let another praise 
thee and not thyself, a stranger and not thine own lips." 
Be not so greedy for popular applause as to forget that 
the same breath which blows up a fire, may blow it out 
again. Vanity, like poisonous drugs, is dangerous in 
large quantities. Be not vain of your lack of vanity, 
every man's vanity is commensurate with his want of un- 
derstanding. How many women prefer ostentation to 
happiness ! " He that exalteth himself shall be abased, 
but he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.'' 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 22 ( J 

A false and seeming modesty is a surer evidence of 
vanity than a moderate degree of assurance. Vanity, of 
all the passions, is the most unsocial. When young men 
are once dyed in pleasure and vanity, they will scarcely 
ever take any other color. Half the errors attributed to 
love have their origin in vanity. "But yesterday the 
word of Caesar might have stood against the world ; 
now lies he there, and none so poor to do him 



reverence." 



GOSSIP. 



The common fluency of speech in many men and most 
women is owing to a scarcity of matter and a scarcity of 
words, for whoever is master of a language and has a 
mind full of ideas will be apt in speaking, to hesitate upon 
the choice of both words and ideas; whereas common 
speakers have only one set of ideas and words, and these 
are always ready for every occasion. People can come 
out ol a church or theater faster when it is almost empty, 
than when it is full. Gossip is the bane of social life, 
always indicating a little mind having an affinity with 
petty concerns, and often a malicious disposition, delight- 
ing in traducing others, an irreverence for truth, risking 
the violation of it for the pleasure of telling stories which 
ma}^ be false. These show great lack of honor and a 
sneaking disposition, saying behind the back of another 
what would not be said before his face, a want of power 
to talk on other subjects. Male gossips are worse than 
female. Women gossip chiefly about domestic life, love, 
marriage, flirtations, servants, entertainments — and a 
world of mischief they do there in the way of heart burn- 
ings, sighings and heart breakings, of broken ties and 



!230 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

alienated affections. But men gossip also. Oh, what 
keen, biting, withering gossipings they engage in ! half 
untrue, and wholly needless , full of envy and uncharita- 
bleness. There is not a more odious character in the 
world than that of a go-between, by which we mean the 
individual who carries to the ear of one neighbor every 
injurious observation which happens to fall upon his ear 
from the mouth of another. Such a person is the slan- 
derers 1 herald, and altogether more odious than the slan- 
derer himself. By vile officiousness he renders that poison 
effective which otherwise would have been inert, as three- 
fourths of the world's slanderers never reach their victims 
with their poisonous arrows except by the malice of these 
go-betweens, who, under the mask of double friendship, 
act the part of double traitor. 

The less business a man has of his own, the more he 
attends to the business of others. Busy-bodies are always 
idlers. Sweep first your own doorstep clean, ere you 
presume to remark your neighbors' negligence. It pays 
better to discover one of your own faults than two of 
some other individual. 

ERROR. 

It is no proof of intentional wickedness to have been 
in the wrong. Perfection is not the attribute of man. 
When a man owns himself to have been in an error, he 
does but tell you in other words that he is wiser than he 
was. No errors are so trivial but they need to be mended. 
Small transgressions become great by frequent repetition, 
as small expenses multiplied imperceptibly waste a large 
patrimony. A great part of mankind employ their first 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 231 

years to make their last miserable. One false step, one 
wrong habit, one corrupt companion, one loose principle, 
may wreck all your prospects, and the fondest hopes of 
those who love you. The error of a moment often 
becomes the regret of a lifetime. Error hath her wor- 
shipers in the very midst of us, yet it is simply because 
they ever mistake error for truth, 

*' Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just ; 
And he but naked, though locked up in steel, 
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted." 

MEDDLING. 

Neglecting our own affairs and meddling with those 
of others, are the fruitful sources of many troubles. 
Those who blow the coals of other people's strife, are 
likely to have the sparks fly in their own faces. We 
think more of ourselves than of others, and often more 
for others than ourselves. " He that intermeddleth with 
strifes not belonging to him, is like a man that taketh a 
dog by the ears." 

AFFLICTION. 

They are always injured by affliction who are not 
thereby improved. Some natures are like grapes — the 
more they are crushed the richer tribute they yield, It 
may be affirmed that good men reap more substantial 
benefit from their afflictions than bad men do from their 
prosperities. What good men loose of wealth and worldly 
pleasure they gain in wisdom and tranquillity of mind. 
Affliction is the crucible in which the dross is purged 
from the character. " No person could be more unhappy," 



232 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

said Demetrius, " than a man who had never seen afflic- 
tion.' 

The best need affliction for the trial of their virtue. 

How could we exercise the grace of contentment if 
all things succeed well, or the god-like attribute of for- 
giveness, without the purging influence of affliction? A 
good conscience is to the soul what health is to the body. 

Let us remember how much worse it is with the pros- 
perous and gay sinner, who is given over to a hardness of 
heart and a reprobate mind, cut off in the midst of his 
wickedness. We find none so miserable but someone 
would be willing to change calamities with them. Noth- 
ing has a more salutary effect upon the human heart than 
the lessons affliction and suffering teach, provided we 
show proper submission. It makes the stroke lighter to 
draw nigh to the hand which wields the rod. The virtue 
of endurance is nearly allied to that of perseverance. It 
is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. 
One month in the school of affliction will teach us more 
wisdom than all the grave precepts of Aristotle in seven 
years. The way to make calamities light is to cultivate 
patience. 

If you would not have affliction visit you twice listen 
at once to what it teaches, and cultivate that abundant 
charity which suffereth long and is kind. 

TEARS. 

There is a sadness in tears. They are not marks of 
weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently 
than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of 
overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, of unspeakable 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 233 

love. If there were wanting any argument to prove that 
man is not mortal I would look for it in the strong, con- 
vulsive emotion in the breast, when the soul has been 
deeply agitated ; when the fountains of feeling are rising 
and tears are gushing forth in crystal streams. O, speak 
not harshly of the stricken one, weeping in silence. 
Break not the solemnity by boisterous mirth, or intrusive 
footsteps ; leave them alone with the sacred society of 
their inner self. Despise not a woman's tears ; they are 
what make her an angel — a link in the golden chain to be 
clasped in another sphere. Scoff not if the stern heart of 
manhood be sometimes melted in sympathy — tears and 
smiles are the blessed "boundary line between the beast 
and man." They are painful tokens, but still most holy. 
There is also pleasure in weeping — an awful pleasure ! 
If there were none on earth to shed a tear for me, this 
world would be dark indeed, and with no one to drop a 
tear in my open grave I could not die in peace. 

Tears generally tremble in our eyes when we are hap- 
py, and glisten like pearls or dewdrops on the lily's bell, but 
the extremes of joy or sorrow are too great, too deep 
for tears. 

It is a singular and striking fact that the dying never 
weep. The sobbing circle of friends around the death bed 
call forth no responsive tears from the dying. Perhaps 
the beauties of the heavenly landscape are being unrolled 
before the spiritual vision. They are now face to face 
with angelic beings and the eternal verities of untried 
and endless existence. There is no weeping in that 
blessed abode, " And God Himself shall wipe away all 
tears from thine eves." 



234 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 



DEPORTMENT. 



It is of vital importance that parents teach their chil- 
dren to deport themselves properly in society toward 
all. It pays a large dividend on the capital invested. As 
we pass to and fro amid the lights and shadows of real 
life, a proper consideration and regard for the feelings of 
those with whom we come in contact will woo to our 
bosoms the gentle dove of peace, and win for us many 
hours of happiness which the ill-bred and vulgar can never 
enjoy. 

Parents, take home a slip of this deportment plant, and 
join with it the rare exotic courtesy, engraft upon its 
branches a germinating bud of that charity which never 
faileth. Cultivate with care this trinity of graces. In 
the morning of life bring your children within the refin- 
ing and elevating influence, so that at the noontide heat 
in life's journey it may extend over them a grateful and 
protecting shade, and in life's dewy eve they may rest in 
the embrace of those perfect graces which flood the path- 
way of the just with its heaven-born light. 

TRUE COURTESY. 

"A smile for one of low degree, 
A courteous bow for one of high, 
So modulated both that each 
Sees friendship in the eye." 

ARTICLES FOR LADIES' TOILET. 

The following articles indispensable for a lady's toilet 
will be found equal to the best in the market, and if 
manufactured after the given formulas, will cost only one- 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 235 

quarter of the amount you would be required to pay if 
purchased of your druggist. 

A beautiful and delicate face-powder can be made in 
the following manner. 

Take one-quarter pound of magnesia. 

One-quarter pound of corn starch. 

One-half ounce sub-nit. bismuth. 

Mix thoroughly, and add the odor of white rose or 
any other perfume to suit the fancy. 

To produce a beautiful flesh tint add to the above 
compound carefully a little rose-pink to produce the de- 
sired tint ; be careful to not put in too much color. 

ANOTHER LILY WHITE. 

Take of French drop chalk, one-quarter pound. 
Of magnesia, one-quarter pound. 

Thoroughly incorporate and perfume to suit yourself. 
Equal to Pazonnis powder. 

RECIPE FOR COLOGNE. 

Oil rosemary and lemon, one-quarter ounce each. 

Oil bergamot and lavender, one drachm each. 

Cinnamon, eight drops. 

Oil cloves, fifteen drops. 

Rosewater, one-half ounce. 

Alcohol, two quarts. 

Mix and shake well. 

To remove black heads, tetter, tan, freckles, sun-burn, 
and moth-spots. 

Take liquor of potash, one ounce. 

Cologne, three ounces. 

Mix well and bottle. 



236 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

Wash the face and hands in warm water, wipe dry 
and apply in the morning, and evening on retiring ; this 
will make the complexion clear, fresh and beautiful. 

To remove dandruff and keep the hair from falling- 
out: 

Take two ounces of sage, put it in one quart of soft 
water and boil to a pint, strain ; then add one ounce pul- 
verized borax, one-half ounce of common salt, one 
ounce of bergamot. Bottle, and apply as a dressing, 
rubbing the scalp well with the fingers while applying. 

Cream Balm, for chapped lips and hands : 
Take glycerine, one ounce. 
Rose water, one ounce. 
Bay rum, one-half pint. 

Mix well, then bottle. Wash with warm water, and 
apply at night on retiring. 

TOOTH PASTE. 

Castile soap, one-half ounce. 

Oil of wintergreen, one-half drachm. 

Pulverized borax, one drachm. 

Prepared chalk (very fine), one-half drachm. 

Melt the soap, mix thoroughly ; apply with a tooth- 
brush. 

FOR THE HAIR. 

Restorative and invigorator : 

Sugar of lead, lac sulphur and pulverized borax, of 

each one ounce. 
Aqua ammonia, one-half ounce. 
Alcohol, one gill. 
Mix fourteen hours. 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 237 

Then add : Bay rum, one gill ; common salt, one 
tablespoonful ; soft water, three pints ; essence of hero-u- 
rn ot, one once. Apply twice a week. This will invigor- 
ate and prevent the hair from falling out and change the 
hair to its original dark color. 

EARLY TRAINING. 

It is needless to say anything in support of a fact 
so well established as that the future character of an 
individual depends largely upon his or her early training. 
If purity and truth are taught from early infancy, the 
mind and heart are fortified against the assaults of 
vice. If on the other hand, the child is allowed to grow 
up without the restraints of a wholesome precept and 
example, the seeds of vice are sure sooner or later to 
fall into fertile soil and bring forth fruit in abundance 
to the exclusion of every principle of virtue, purity and 
truth. The most fertile soil, unless kept under continual 
surveillance, will bring forth the rankest weeds and 
brambles. So if the first buds of evil are allowed to 
grow and unfold instead of being promptly nipped in 
the bud, we should not consider it remarkable if in later 
years these germs bear hideous fruit in the development 
of shameless lives. To neglect to guard and hedge up 
the avenues by which evil may approach the young 
mind, leaves many innocent souls open to the assaults 
of evil, when they fall an easy prey to lust. " Children 
who are allowed to get their education on the street, 
or at the corner grocery," will be sure to develop 
proclivities of a vicious nature, the full consequences of 
which will be known only in eternity, and will in mature 



238 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

manhood be made to feel that the way of the trans- 
gressor is hard. "The mind becomes debauched by 
dwelling on licentious images, and by indulging in licen- 
tious conversation. And they have no desire to resist ; 
they are not overtaken by a temptation, for they seek 
it out in the haunts of vice. With them the sin becomes 
habitual, and the stain on the character is deep and 
lasting." 

MENTAL CULTURE IX CHILDHOOD. 

People make one of the great mistakes of their life rel- 
ative to the care and culture of children, in overtasking 
their mental faculties. While it is exceedingly gratifying 
to parents to see their children acquire knowledge and 
manifest an understanding far beyond their years, yet 
this gratification is often attended with a terrible expense 
with respect to the health and life of children, as preco- 
cious children are apt to die young. The brain and ner- 
vous svstem of children are delicate : thev have not vet 
acquired the powers of endurance which older persons 
possess. The greater portion of the brain nutriment as- 
similated, is required for growth and organic develop- 
ment, and they can ill afford its expenditure for mental 
manifestations. 

It is true they receive impressions easier and learn 

much more readily than in after life, but at the expense 
of a healthy development of their physical organization. 
Their mental faculties continue to be developed by the 
expenditure of brain nutriment, while the physical growth 
and the elements of a robust constitution are being 
sapped from the system by the unwise and premature de- 
velopment of the mental faculties. 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 239 

The consequence of this is that the physical organ- 
ization is made to support the mental, and the once 
bright and healthy child with a body unable to keep 
pace with the mind, and resist successfully the attacks of 
disease, ekes out a miserable existence or fills an early 
grave. 

It is evident to all that an ordinary intellect in a 
healthy body is capable of accomplishing infinitely more 
than a powerful intellect in a weak and poorly developed 
body. O. S. Fowler in his work on phrenology, says : 
" Would you become great mentally, then first become 
cerebrally strong. Or, would you render that darling 
boy a great man, first make him a powerful animal. Xot 
all powerful animals are great men, but all great men 
are, or must needs be, powerful animals. Our animal 
nature is the basis of all mental and moral functions." 

Mental labor should always be suspended. When the 
train of thought becomes confused and there is to any 
degree a sensation of depression, conflicting and distract- 
ing emotions should be absent from the mind in order to 
make progress in any direction, as the intellect cannot at- 
tend perfectly to two subjects at the same time. 

Painful sensations always have a tendency to paralyze 
successful mental exertion. 

MENTAL CULTURE. 

" The brain, like all other organs of the body, requires 
alternate exercise and repose ; and in physical endurance 
it is subject to general physiological laws. 

When exercised with moderation it acquires strength, 
vigor and an accelerated activity. Excessive mental 



240 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

exertion is liable to result in softening of the brain, and 
various nervous diseases, sometimes culminating in insan- 
ity and in inany instances proving fatal to life. The 
mere votaries of pleasure who discard all effort of the 
mind fall into the opposite. In all cases of intellectual 
activity the exertions should be directed to some subject 
interesting to the student. In this manner duty will 
become a pleasure, which in turn will reinvigorate the 
mental functions. When the mind is confined to one 
subject for any considerable length of time together, it 
becomes fatigued, and requires relaxation, recreation, 
rest. 

This may be obtained by directing the attention to 
some other subject, either study or amusement, the latter 
of which is preferable. 

The amusement, however, may be of an intellectual or 
physical character, or both combined, and will, if properly 
conducted, restore enero-v and vigor to both mind and 
body. Prominent among physical phenomena is the 
mutual relation between the brain and the organs of 
nutrition. Mental exertion should be avoided for at least 
one hour after a heartv meal, and all mental labor which 
requires concentration of thought ought to be accom- 
plished in the earlier portion of the day. when the brain 
is refreshed and repaired by the night's repose. The 
" midnight oil n and emaciated, dyspeptic literati, are 
inevitable concomitants. Mental, like physical endur- 
ance is modified by age, health, development, etc., also 
a person accustomed to concentration of thought can 
endure a longer mental strain than the one unused to 
manual labor. One of the most injurious American cus- 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 241 

toms is the cultivation of the intellect at the expense of 
the physical powers. 

DANCING. 

"Dancing is an invention of the devil." This is 
the verdict of learned and dignified synods, and as it is 
usually conducted, it must be confessed that their disap- 
proval is well founded. The clergy, as a class of teachers, 
are not inclined to condemn any practices unless they see 
in them tendencies pernicious to the well-being of refined 
and Christian society. The fashionable, promiscuous 
ball, protracted far into the night, or even till the dawn 
of morning, in a heated atmosphere, and to the sound of 
voluptuous music, must be injurious both to health and 
morals, and merits all the condemnation it has ever re 
ceived. 

It seems impossible to exclude from these gatherings 
men who are unchaste in thought and impure in life, and 
how can we consent to have our virtuous sisters and 
daughters subjected to the wily and skillful manipula 
tions of those whose touch is a fire that burns, whose 
very breath is contaminating to the society of the pure 
and virtuous ? 

But notwithstanding the fact that the dance has been 
perverted to the basest purposes — been made the fruitful 
source of dissipation, and has often laid the foundation 
for disease and premature death, yet it is still capable of 
being made to minister to health and happiness. As a 
means of physical culture, it favors the development of 
the muscular system, and thereby is a promoter of health 
and cheerfulness. When practiced for this purpose, 
Jacques terms it " the best of all in-door exercises, as it 

10 



242 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 

brings to bear upon the physical system a great number 
of harmonious and energizing influences." 

But as it is generally carried on it amounts to a dissi- 
pation. The renowned Petrarch has thus described it 
"as the spur of lust — a circle in which the devil is the 
center." 

TOBACCO. 

" The use of tobacco is a pernicious habit, and injuri- 
ous in whatever form it is introduced into the system. 
Its active principle — nicotine — is an energetic poison, 
and exerts a specific effect upon the nervous system, 
tending to stimulate it to an unnatural degree of ac- 
tivity, resulting in weakness, and often inducing paraly- 
sis." Under its action the tone of the system is greatly 
impaired, and it responds with great reluctance to reme- 
dial agencies. Tobacco, when used to excess, gives rise 
to the most unpleasant and dangerous pathological condi- 
tions. Oppressive torpor, weakness or loss of intellect, 
softening of the brain, nervous debility, dyspepsia, func- 
tional derangement of the heart, disease of the liver and 
kidneys are not uncommon consequences of the excessive 
use of this plant. A sense of faintness, nausea, giddiness, 
dryness of the throat, trembling of the limbs, and a general 
nervous prostration must warn the person addicted to 
this habit that they are sapping the foundation of health. 

Dr. King says: U A patient under treatment should 
abandon the use of tobacco, or his physician should as- 
sume no responsibility in his case, further than to do the 
best he can for him." Let those addicted to this per- 
nicious habit listen to the voice of warning and the 
promptings of their own conscience. 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 243 

EARLY ASSOCIATIONS. ' 

"As children grow older watch their associations. 
Warn them of evil influences and evil practices. Make 
home so attractive that they will enjoy it better than 
any other place." Cultivate music ; its mellowing, har- 
monizing, refining influence is so great that it may not 
prudently be withheld or carelessly neglected. Children 
naturally love music, and are attracted to places of 
amusement, where the sweet sounds of heaven-born sym- 
phony fall in waves of golden glory upon their ravished 
ear, though those attractive places of enjoyment be the 
stepping stone to their degradation and disgrace, the 
entrance to the vestibule of prostitution and moral ruin. 
Supply attractive books of natural history, of travels, in- 
teresting and instructive biographies and almost any 
other books except love-sick novels and sentimental re- 
ligious story books. Guard against bad books and bad 
associates. A taste once acquired for light literature de- 
stroys the relish for solid reading. The fascination of 
bad companionship once thrown around a person in 
youth, is broken with the greatest difficulty. Hence 
the necessity of watching for and promptly checking the 
very beginning of evil. 

The mind should be thus fortified against the trifles 
and follies of fashionable life. It should be elevated into 
a sphere far above that occupied by those who pass 
their time in fashionable drawing rooms in silly twaddle, 
in listless day-dreaming, or in the gratification of per- 
verted tastes and depraved instincts in any other of the 
common ways of fashionable life. 



2±4 MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 



LIFE FORCE. 



To every thinking mind the question often recurs. 
What makes the fragrant flower so different from the 
dead soil from which it grows, the trilling bird so vastly 
superior to the inert atmosphere in which it flies 2 "What 
subtle power paints the rose and tunes the merry songs- 
ter's voice I To explain this mystery philosophers of 
olden time supposed the existence of a certain peculiar 
force, which is called life, or vitality. This supposition 
does nothing more than furnish a name for a thing 
unknown, and the very existence of which may fairly be 
doubted. In fact, any attempt to find a place for such a 
force, to understand its origin or harmonize its existence 
with that of other well known forces, is unsuccessful ; and 
the theory of a peculiar vital force, a presiding entity 
present in living things vanishes into thin air. to give 
place to the more rational view of the most advanced 
modern scientists, that vital force, so-called, is only a 
manifestation of the ordinary forces of nature acting 
through a peculiar arrangement of matter. In other 
words, life depends, not upon a peculiar force, but upon a 
peculiar arrangement of matter. It is simply a peculiar 
manifestation of the force possessed by atoms, exhibited 
through a peculiar arrangement of atoms and molecules. 
This arrangement is what is known as organization; 
and bodies which possess it are known as organized or 
living bodies. The term "life" may be understood as 
referring to the phenomena which result from organi- 
zation. 

That life results from organization, not organization 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 245 

from life, is more consonant with the accepted and estab- 
lished facts of science than the contrary view. 

TO YOUNG MEN. 

The line of conduct chosen by a young man during 
the years between fifteen and twenty will, in almost 
every instance, determine his character for life. As he is 
then careful or careless, prudent or imprudent, industri- 
ous or indolent, truthful or otherwise, temperate or disso- 
lute, intelligent or ignorant, so he will be in after years ; 
and it needs no prophet to cast his horoscope, or calculate 
his chance in life. 

Young men and boys rarely realize, we fear, how 
much their success in life depends upon their present 
deportment. Their conduct is more generally observed 
than they are ready to believe, and frequently discussions 
take place among business and influential men in regard 
to their fitness for places of trust in which young men 
are wanted, of which they never know because of their 
unfitness for the situation. 

We were made to think of this, the other day, in 
hearing one of our best business men, who will have no 
one in his employ who is not above suspicion, point out 
half a dozen young men whom he would cheerfully 
recommend for any position, however responsible, that 
any young man can fill. They are young men wiiDse 
general conduct recommends them. They are never seen 
rowdying about the streets ; they are never seen hanging; 
about restaurants; they are never seen making them- 
selves conspicuous by boisterous behavior; they are never 
heard shocking the moral sensibilities of decent people by 



216 



MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. 



profane or indecent language ; they are the pride of their 
parents, and an honor to the community in which they 
live, and destined to become the leading men of the 
country. 

All young men should be ambitious to have such 
reputations, so that, when positions of trust are to be 
rilled, their friends can with confidence recommend them. 




ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD * 




OUKTESY between husband and wife should 
not cease with marriage. The cool indiffer- 
ence which some married persons display 
toward each other is as objectionable as the 
excessive affection of others. You should 
never forget that your wife is a lady, entitled 
to all the courtesy and attention you lavished 
upon her before marriage. The wife, on her 
part, should so conduct herself that her hus- 
band will delight to treat her thus. 

DUTIES OF THE WIFE. 

On the wife especially devolves the priv- 
ilege and pleasure of rendering home happy. We shall, 
therefore, speak of such duties and observances as per- 
tain to her. 

When a young wife first settles in her home, many ex- 
cellent persons, with more zeal, it may be, than discre- 
tion, immediately propose that she should devote some of 
her leisure time to charitable purposes : such, for in- 
stance, as clothing societies for the poor, or schools, or 
district visiting. We say with all earnestness to our 




♦From the Household Encyclopedia. 

247 



248 ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD 

young Mend, Engage in nothing of the kind, however 
laudable, without previously consulting your husband, 
and obtaining his full concurrence. Carefully avoid, 
also, being induced by any specious arguments to attend 
evening lectures unless he accompanies you. Remember 
that your Heavenly Father, who has given you a home 
to dwell in, requires from you a right performance of its 
duties. Win your husband, by all gentle appliances, to 
love religion ; but do not, for the sake even of a privilege 
and a blessing, leave him to spend his evenings alone. 
Look often on your marriage ring, and remember the 
sacred vows taken by you when the ring was given ; such 
thoughts will go far toward allaying many of these petty 
vexations which circumstances call forth. 

Never let your husband have cause to complain that 
you are more agreeable abroad than at home ; nor permit 
him to see in you an object of admiration, as respects 
your dress and manners, w T hen in company, while you are 
negligent of both in the domestic circle. Manv an un- 
happy marriage has been occasioned by neglect in these 
particulars. Nothing can be more senseless than the con- 
duct of a young woman who seeks to be admired in gen- 
eral society for her politeness and engaging manners, or 
skill in music, when, at the same time, she makes no ef- 
fort to render her home attractive ; and yet that home, 
whether a palace or a cottage, is the very center of her 
being — the nucleus around w 7 hich her affections should 
revolve, and beyond which she has comparatively small 
concern. 

Beware of intrusting any individual whatever with 
small annoyances or misunderstandings between your hus- 



ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 249 

band and yourself, if they unhappily occur. Confidants 
are dangerous persons, and many seek to obtain an ascend- 
ancy in families by gaining the good opinion of young 
married women. Be on your guard and reject every 
overture that may lead to undesirable intimacy. Should 
anyone presume to offer you advice with regard to your 
husband, or seek to lessen him in your estimation by in- 
sinuations, shun that person as you would a serpent. 
Many a home has been rendered desolate by exciting 
coolness or suspicion, or by endeavors to gain importance 
in an artificial and insidious manner. 

In all money matters act openly and honorably. 
Keep your accounts with the most scrupulous exactness, 
and let your husband see that you take an honest pride 
in rightly appropriating the money which he intrusts to 
you. " My husband works hard for every dollar that he 
earns," said a young married lady, the wife of a profes- 
sional man, to a lady friend who found her busily en- 
gaged in sewing buttons on her husband's coat, " and it 
seems to me worse than cruel to lay out a dime unneces- 
sarily." Be very careful, also, that you do not spend 
more than can be afforded in dress ; and be satisfied with 
such carpets and curtains in your drawing room as befit a 
moderate fortune or professional income. Natural orna- 
ments and flowers tastefully arranged give an air of ele- 
gance to a room in which the furniture is far from costly ; 
and books, judiciously placed, uniformly give a good 
effect. A sensible woman will always seek to ornament 
her home and to render it attractive, more especially as 
this is the taste of the present day. The power of asso- 
ciation is very great ; light, and air, and elegance are im- 



250 ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

portant in their effects. Xo wife acts wisely who per- 
mits her sitting room to look dull in the eyes of him whom 
she ought especially to please, and with whom she has to 
pass her days. 

In middle life instances frequently occur of conceal- 
ment with regard to monev concerns : thus, for instance, 
a wife wishes to possess an article of dress which is too 
costly for immediate purchase, or a piece of furniture 
liable to the same objection. She accordingly makes an 
agreement with a seller, and there are manv who call reg 1 - 
ularly at houses when the husband is absent on business. 
and who receive whatever the mistress of the house can 
spare from her expenses. A book is kept by the seller, 
in which payments are entered ; but a duplicate is 
never retained by the wife, and therefore she has no check 
whatever. TTe have known an article of dress paid for 
in this manner, far above its value, and have heard a poor 
young woman who has been thus duped, say to a lady 
who remonstrated with her : - Alas ! what can I do \ I 
dare not tell my husband." It may be that the same 
svstem. though differing according to circumstances, is 
pursued in a superior class of life. We have reason to 
think that it is so. and therefore affectionately warn our 
younger sisters to beware of making purchases that re- 
quire concealment. Be content with such things as you 
can honorably afford, and such as your husbands ap- 
prove. You can then wear them with every feeling of 
self-satisfaction. 

Lastly, remember your standing as a lady, and never 
approve a mean action, nor speak an unrefined word ; let 
all your conduct be such as an honorable and right- 



ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 251 

minded man may look for in his wife, and the mother of 
his children. The sigh test duplicity destroys confidence. 
The least want of refinement in conversation, or in the 
selection of books, lowers a woman — ay, and forever ! 
Follow these few simple precepts, and they shall prove of 
more worth to you than rubies ; neglect them, and you 
will know what sorrow is. 

DUTIES OF THE HUSBAND. 

As regards the duties of the husband, we desire to be 
equally explicit. 

When a man marries, it is understood that all former 
acquaintanceship ends, unless he intimate a desire to 
renew it by sending you his own and his wife's card, if 
near, or by letter, if distant. If this be neglected, be 
sure no further intercourse is desired. 

In the first place, a bachelor is seldom very particular 
in the choice of his companions. So long as he is 
amused he will associate freely enough with those whose 
morals and habits would point them out as highly dan- 
gerous persons to introduce into the sanctity of domestic 
life. 

Secondly, a married man has the tastes of another to 
consult ; and the friend of the husband may not be 
equally acceptable to the wife. 

Besides, newly married people may w^ish to limit the 
circle of their friends from praiseworthy motives of 
economy. When a man first u sets up" in the world, the 
burden of an extensive and indiscriminate acquaintance 
may be felt in various ways. Many have had cause to 
regret the weakness of mind which allowed them to 



252 ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

plunge into a vortex of gayety and expense they could ill 
afford, from which they have found it difficult to extri- 
cate themselves, and the effects of which have proved a 
serious evil to them in after life. 

Remember that you have now, as a married man, a 
very different standing in society from the one which you 
previously held, and that the happiness of another is com- 
mitted to your charge. Render, therefore, your home 
happy by kindness and attention to your wife, and care- 
fully watch over your words and actions. If small dis- 
putes arise, and your wife has not sufficient good sense to 
yield her opinion — nay, if she seems determined to 
have her own way, and that tenaciously, do not get 
angry; rather be silent, and let the matter rest. An 
opportunity will soon occur of speaking affectionately, 
yet decidedly, on the subject, and much good will be 
effected. Master your own temper and you will soon 
master your wife's ; study her happiness without yield- 
ing to any caprices, and you will have no reason to regret 
}^our self-control. 

[Never let your wife go to church alone on Sunday. 
You can hardly do a worse thing as regards her good 
opinion of you and the well-being of your household. It 
is a pitiable sight to see a young wife going toward the 
church door unattended, alone in the midst of a crowd, 
with her thoughts dwelling, it may be very sadly, on the 
time when you were proud to walk beside her. Remem- 
ber that the condition of a young bride is often a very 
solitary one ; and that for your sake she has left her 
parents' roof and the companionship of her brothers and 
sisters. If you are a professional man your wife may 



ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 253 

have to live in the neighborhood of a large city, where 
she scarcely knows anyone, and without those agreeable 
domestic occupations, or young associates, among whom 
she had grown up. Her garden and poultry yard are hers 
no longer, and the day passes without the light of any smile 
but yours. You go off, most probably after breakfast, 
to your business or profession, and do not return till a 
late dinner ; perhaps even not then, if you are much occu- 
pied, or have to keep up professional connections. It 
seems unmanly, certainly most unkind, to let your young 
wife go to church on Sunday without you, for the com- 
monplace satisfaction of lounging at home. To act in 
this manner is certainly a breach of domestic etiquette. 
Sunday is the only day in which you can enable her to 
forget her father's house and the pleasant associations of 
her girlhood days — in which you can pay her those 
attentions which prevent all painful comparisons as 
regards the past. Sunday is a day of rest, wisely and 
mercifully appointed to loose the bonds by which men 
are held to the world ; let it be spent by you as becomes 
the head of a family. Let no temptation ever induce 
you to wish your wife to relinquish attending divine 
service, merely that she may " idle at home with you." 
Eeligion is her safeguard amid the trials or temptations 
of this world. And woe may be to you if you seek to 
withdraw her from its protection ! 

Much perplexity in the marriage state often arises 
from want of candor. Men conceal their affairs, and 
expect their wives to act with great economy, without 
assigning any reason why such should be the case ; but 
the husband ought frankly to tell his wife the real 



254 ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 

amount of his income ; for, unless this is done, she cannot 
properly regulate her expenses. They ought then to 
consult together as to the sum that can be afforded for 
housekeeping, which should be rather below than above 
the mark. When this is arranged he will find it advan- 
tageous to give into her hands, either weekly, monthlv 
or quarterly, the sum that is appropriated for daily 
expenditure, and above all things to avoid interfering 
without absolute necessity. The home department be- 
longs exclusively to the wife; the province of the hus- 
band is to rule the house — hers to regulate its internal 
movements. True it is, that some inexperienced young 
creatures know but little of household concerns. If this 
occur, have patience, and do not become pettish or ill- 
humored. If too much money is laid out at first, give 
advice, kindly and firmly, and the young wife will soon 
learn how to perform her new duties. 

No good ever yet resulted or ever will result from 
unnecessary interference. If a man unhappily marries an 
incorrigible simpleton, or spendthrift, he cannot help 
himself. Such, however, is rarely the case. Let a man 
preserve his own position, and assist his wife to do the 
same ; all things will then move together, well and 
harmoniously. 

Much sorrow and many heart burnings may be 
avoided by judicious conduct in the outset of life. Hus- 
bands should give their wives all confidence. They have 
intrusted to them their happiness, and should never 
suspect them of desiring to waste their money. When- 
ever a disposition is manifested to do right, express your 
approbation. Be pleased with trifles, and commend 



ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 255 

efforts to excel on every fitting occasion. If your wife is 
diffident, encourage her, and avoid seeing small mistakes. 
It is unreasonable to add to the embarrassments of her 
new condition, by ridiculing her deficiencies. Forbear 
extolling the previous management of your mother or 
your sisters. Many a wife has been alienated from her 
husband's family, and many an affectionate heart has been 
deeply wounded by such injudicious conduct ; and, as a 
sensible woman will always pay especial attention to the 
relatives of her husband, and entertain them with 
affectionate politeness, the husband on his part should 
always cordially receive and duly attend to her relations. 
The reverse of this, on either side, is often productive of 
unpleasant feelings. 

Lastly, we recommend every young married man 
who wishes to render his home happy, to consider his 
wife as the light of his domestic circle, and to permit no 
clouds, however small, to obscure the region in which she 
presides. Most women are naturally amiable, gentle and 
complying; and if a wife becomes perverse and indiffer 
ent to her home, it is generally the husband's fault. He 
may have neglected her happiness ; but nevertheless, it is 
unwise in her to retort, and, instead of reflecting the 
brightness that still may shine upon her, to give back the 
dusky and cheerless hue that saddens her existense. Be 
not selfish, but complying, in small things. If your wife 
dislikes cigars — and few young women like to have their 
clothing tainted by tobacco — leave off smoking; for it 
is, at best, an ungentlemanly and dirty habit. 

If your wife asks you to read to her, do not put your 
feet upon a chair and go to sleep. If she is fond of 



256 



ETIQUETTE OF THE HOUSEHOLD. 



music, accompany her as you were wont to do when you 
sought her for a bride. The husband may say that he is 
tired, and does not like music or reading aloud. This 
may occasionally be true, and no amiable woman will 
ever desire her husband to do what would really weary 
him. We, however, recommend a young man to practice 
somewhat of self-denial, and to remember that no one 
acts with a due regard to his own happiness who lays 
aside, when married, those gratifying attentions which he 
was ever ready to pay the lady of his love, or to those 
rational sources of home enjoyment which made her look 
forward with a bounding heart to become his companion 
through life. 

Finally, remember it is your duty to make the most 
liberal provision for your family your means will permit. 
Cultivate economy by all means, but let it be of a liberal 
character. Spare your wife all the physical labor you 
can, especially if she be the mother of children. Her 
health is your greatest treasure. Your money is badly 
saved at the cost of her health and freshness. 




HOUSEHOLD EECIPES. 




APPLE CREAM. 

EEL some apples, remove the cores, and cut 
them in thin slices. Put them into a sauce- 
pan with crushed sugar, sliced lemon peel, 
and ground ginger, with a little red wine. 
Let them simmer until they become tender ; 
put them in a dish, and allow them to cool. 
Then boil a quart of cream with some nutmeg, 
and add the apples to it, with a sufficient quan- 
tity of sugar to sweeten it. 

LEMON LOZENGES. 

Put a quarter of an ounce of gum tragacanth in a lit- 
tle water. Add to it some lemon juice, and the peel cut 
in very thin slices. Stir them frequently for three or 
four days, until the gum forms a mucilage. Then strain 
it into a mortar ; mix with it a pound of powdered lump 
sugar, taking care to add the sugar by small portions at 
a time, and not to put another portion in it until the pre- 
vious one has thoroughly mixed with the mucilage. 
When a white and flexible paste has thus been prepared, 
roll it into a sheet about as thick as a halfpenny, and cut 

IT 257 



258 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

it into diamonds with a knife or cutter. Arrange the 
lozenges on a plate, and dry them in a warm oven. 

GOOSEBERRY JAM. 

Take some gooseberries that are not too ripe, pick 
them carefully, and lay them at the bottom of an earthen- 
ware pan, and cover them with sugar. Keep on doing 
this until the pan is almost filled, and then add a pint of 
water to every six pounds of gooseberries. Put the pan 
in a moderately heated oven until the sugar is converted 
into syrup, and the contents begin to boil. Then remove 
the preserved fruit, and put it while hot into small jars, 
which should be securely covered with several layers of 
white paper. 

GOOSEBERRY JELLY. 

Bruise a quantity of gooseberries and pass the pulp 
through a somewhat coarse cloth, and add three-quarters 
of their weight of lump sugar. Boil the fruit with sugar 
into a jelly, so thick that when a little is dropped on a 
plate it will not adhere to it, and then strain it. 

TO PRESERVE CHERRIES. 

Boil them in thick syrup in a pan, and let them re- 
main until next day. Then take them out, and put them 
in syrup which has been boiled down until it is ready to 
candy, and color them with some syrup of red currants. 
Cherries may also be preserved by another method. 
Take equal quantities of crushed loaf sugar and ripe 
cherries, previously stoned. Place some of the sugar at 
the bottom of the preserving pan, place the cherries on it 
and sprinkle more sugar over them as you place them in 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 259 

it. Then put the pan on the fire, and for each pound of 
fruit add half a quarter of a pint of red currant juice, and 
more of the sugar. Boil them fast over a good fire, fre- 
quently shaking the pan, but not stirring it. Skim the 
contents, and when the syrup has become sufficiently 
thick, pour the preserved fruit into jelly pots. 

TO PRESERVE CHERRIES IN BUNCHES. 

Select some cherries, and make them into bunches. 
Then boil them in a syrup, made with an equal weight of 
sugar and the smallest possible quantity of water to dis- 
solve it. Take the vessel from the fire and skim it, and 
let the cherries become cold. Then place them in the 
syrup, into a warm oven, and let them remain until next 
day. Afterward take them out and dry them. 

PICKLED LEMONS. 

Take small lemons with thick rinds, and rub them 
with a piece of flannel ; then slit them half down in four 
quarters, but not through to the pulp; fill the slit with 
salt pressed hard in ; set them upright in a pan for four 
or iive days, until the salt melts ; turn them thrice a day 
in their own liquor until tender. Make enough pickle to 
cover them of good vinegar, the brine of the lemons, 
Jamaica pepper, and ginger ; boil and skim it, and when 
cold, put it to the lemons with two ounces of mustard 
seed, and two cloves of garlic to every six lemons. When 
the lemons are used, the pickle will be useful in fish and 
other sauces. 

More easily made than green pickles, and more gen- 
erally approved than hot pickles. 



260 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

TOMATO CATSUP. 

One gallon of tomatoes (that is. after they are all 
boiled down), four tablespoonfuls of salt, three table- 
spoonfuls of pepper, three tablespoonfuls of mustard, halt 
tablespoonful of allspice, half a tablespoonful of ground 
cloves, one tablespoonful of cayenne pepper, one pint of 
vinegar, to be simmered for one hour. Scald and skin 
the tomatoes first, and thoroughly boil them (they can 
scarcely be done too much; before adding the above in- 
gredients. When cold put into old pickle bottles and seal 
the corks. 

TOMATO SAUCE. 

When ripe take off the green stalks from the toma- 
toes. Wipe them clean, and place them in a slow oven, 
where they must remain till quite soft. Then work them 
through a sieve and take out the seeds, and add. to everv 
two pounds of tomatoes, one pint of good white wine 
vinegar, one dozen chillies, quarter of a pound of garlic, 
quarter of a pound of shallots shred very thin, one ounce 
of ground white pepper, and a good handful of salt. Boil 
all together, till the garlic and shallots are soft ; then 
strain it. and skim off the froth, and if too thick add a 
little more vinegar. When cold, bottle it in wide- 
mouthed bottles. This sauce may be kept several years, 
and will improve with age. In addition to the above in- 
gredients some persons put half an ounce of ground 



£ino-er. 



IXDIAN' PICKLE. 



To each gallon of malt vinegar (cold) add half a pound 
of mustard, six ounces of turmeric, a handful of salt, and 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 2C>1 

a little grated ginger; boil the vinegar and spices to- 
gether, and let the mixture cool. Boil or scald the vege- 
tables with vinegar — taking care to have among them a 
little garlic and some onions ; put them in your jar, and 
pour on the pickle. Afterward put in the jar a bag con- 
taining a quarter of a pound of ginger, one ounce of long 
pepper, one ounce of black pepper, one ounce of cloves, 
and half an ounce of cayenne. 

GOOSEBERRY CHAMPAGNE. 

Provide forty pounds of full grown but unripe goose 
berries, of the Green Bath or any other kind, with a little 
flavor; rub off the blossoms and stocks, pick out unsound 
or bruised berries, and separate the small ones by means 
of a sieve. Put the fruit into a fifteen or twenty gallon 
tub, and bruise it in small portions, so as to burst the ber- 
ries without bruising the seeds. Pour upon them four 
gallons of water, carefully stir and squeeze them with the 
hands until the juice and pulp are separated from the 
seeds and skins ; in twelve or twenty-four hours strain 
the whole through a canvas bag, and pass through the 
fruit one gallon of fresh water. E~ext dissolve in the 
juice thirty pounds of loaf sugar, and add water, if requi- 
site, to make up the whole liquor to eleven gallons. Let 
it remain in the tub ; cover it with a blanket, over which 
place a board, and let the temperature of the place 
wherein the tub is set be from 50° to 60° of the thermom- 
eter. In a day or two, according to the symptoms of fer- 
mentation, draw off the liquor into a ten gallon cask to 
ferment, keeping it filled up near the bunghole. When 
the fermentation becomes somewhat languid, drive in the 



262 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

bung and bore a hole by its side, into which fit a wooden 
peg. In a few days loosen the peg, so that any air may 
escape ; and when there appears no longer any, drive in 
the peg or spile tightly. The wine being thus made, it 
should be set in a cool cellar, and remain there until the 
end of December, when, to insure its fineness, it should be 
racked into a fresh cask to clear from its first lees ; or, 
should it then prove too sweet, instead of racking it the 
fermentation should be renewed by stirring up the lees, 
or by rolling the cask. Sometimes, if the wine be exam- 
ined on a clear, cold day in March, it will be found fine 
enough to bottle without further trouble. If it be racked, 
it should be fined with isinglass. 

CHERRY BRANDY. 

Put twenty-four pounds of ripe cherries, stoned, and 
four pounds of strawberries in a cask ; bruise them well 
with a stick, and then add six pounds of sugar, twenty- 
four cloves, some cinnamon and nutmegs, together with 
the kernels of the cherry stones ; pour over them three 
gallons of brandy. Let the cask remain open for ten or 
twelve days, and then close it, and let it remain for two 
months, when it will be fit for use. 

SPARKLING GRAPE WINE, OR ENGLISH CHAMPAGNE. 

Kemove the stalks and decayed grapes, bruise the 
fruit, and to every pound put one quart of cold water ; 
let it stand in a convenient vessel three days, stirring it 
twice or three times a day; then strain, and to every 
gallon of liquor add three and a quarter pounds of lump 
sugar; dissolve this as quickly as possible, and put the 
whole at once into the cask. Ten days afterward put 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 263 

into the cask to every five gallons of wine one pint of 
brandy and a quarter of an ounce of isinglass. This 
should be bottled in champagne bottles, when the vines 
are in bloom the following summer, and the corks will 
require to be tied or wired down. The grapes for mak- 
ing it should be tolerably but not fully ripe. 

SWEET GRAPE WINE. 

Pick the grapes as above, crush and strain, and to 
each gallon of juice add three and a quarter pounds of 
lump sugar ; put it immediately into the cask and bottle 
when the vines bloom the following summer. The grapes 
should be fully but not over-ripe. 

SPARKLING GREEN GOOSEBERRY WINE. 

Pick out the defective gooseberries, remove the stalks 
and tails, and bruise the fruit in such a manner as not 
to crush the seeds ; to every pound put one quart of 
water. This must be let stand three or four days, and 
be stirred three or four times a day ; then strain, and to 
every gallon of liquor add three pounds of coarse loaf 
sugar. When this is dissolved put it into the cask, and 
to every five gallons of wine add one pint of brandy and 
a quarter of an ounce of isinglass. The wine will gen- 
erally be fit to bottle in five months, but if it be found 
too sweet, and not clear, it may be allowed to remain 
longer. The gooseberries should be taken when fully 
grown, but before they begin to turn ripe. 

RIPE GOOSEBERRY WINE (STILL)*. 

Pick and bruise the fruit in a convenient tub or other 
vessel, and let it stand twentv-four hours ; then strain and 



264 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

return the skins and seeds to the tub, and pour on theni tol- 
erably hot water, in the proportion of one quart to ev 
gallon of gooseberries ; let this stand twelve hours, and 
then strain, and mix the water with the juice. To every 
five gallons of this liquor add twelve pounds of lump 
sugar ; let it ferment well in the tub, then skim off the 
head, and draw off as much of the liquor as will run 
clear ; put this in the cask, and add to every five gallons 
two quarts of brandy. To be in perfection it should not 
be bottled for five years, but it may be used, if necessary, 
at the expiration of twelve months. 

CURRAXT WIXE. 

Bruise ripe currants with their stalks, and to every 
fourteen pounds put eleven quarts of water. Let them 
stand twenty-four hours ; then strain, add one pound of 
lump sugar to each pound of currants, and stir twice a 
day for two days; afterward put the liquor into the 
cask with a pint of brandy to each fourteen pounds of 
fruit. Three quarts of raspberries or strawberries to 
each fourteen pounds of currants is considered an im- 
provement. To white currant wine some persons add a 
few bitter almonds pounded. Currant wines should not 
be bottled for twelve months, and will improve if left for 
a longer period. Ripe gooseberry wine may be mad- 
the same formula if desired. 

STRAWBERRY OR RASPBERRY WHIEL 

Bruise three gallons of either fruit, and add to it an 
equal measure of water; let them stand twenty-four 
hours ; then add two gallons of cider, eight pounds of 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 265 

lump sugar, the rind of a lemon cut thin, and one ounce 
of powdered red tartar. Put into the cask with one gal- 
lon of brandy. For raspberry wine a gallon of currant 
juice, substituted for a like quantity of water, will be an 
improvement. 

DAMSON WINE. 

To four gallons of damsons pour four gallons of boil- 
ing water in a tub or other convenient vessel ; let this 
stand four or five days, and stir it every day With the 
hand ; then strain, and to every gallon of liquor add three 
and a half pounds of lump sugar ; when this is dissolved 
put the whole into the cask. It may be bottled in twelve 
months. 

CHERRY WINE. 

Same as damson, but as cherries are sweeter, three 
pounds of sugar only need be used to the above quantity. 
Many persons like the flavor of the kernels in damson 
and cherry wines; to give this, one-eighth of the stones 
should be broken and infused with the fruit. 

SLOE WINE. 

Same as damson, but four pounds of sugar should be 
used instead of three and a half to the above quantity. 
A considerable length of time should be given to the sloe 
wine in the cask, and it will become little inferior to 
port. 

RHUBARB WINE (SPARKLING). 

Cut five pounds of rhubarb into short pieces as for 
tarts, and pour on them a gallon of water ; let this stand 
five days, and stir each day ; then strain off, and to the 
liquor add four pounds of lump sugar. When this is dis- 
solved put it into the cask with one lemon and one 



266 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

pennyworth of isinglass. This will be fit to bottle in six 
months. 

APPLE WINE. 

To a gallon of cider (new from the mill), add a pound 
and a half of moist sugar, a quarter of a pound of raisins, 
and half a lemon ; put in the cask as soon as the sugar is 
dissolved. This will be fit for use in two months. 

As the fruits or other vegetable substances on which 
the foregoing wines are based contains a natural ferment, 
they will undergo that process spontaneously, and require 
no yeast. Those, that follow will require yeast to make 
them ferment. 

GINGER WINE. 

To six gallons of water put eighteen pounds of lump 
sugar, the rinds (thinly pared) of seven lemons and eight 
oranges, and eight ounces of ginger ; boil the whole for 
an hour and let it cool. When lukewarm add the juice 
of the above fruit and three pounds of raisins. Work 
with yeast, and put it into the cask with half an ounce of 
isinglass. This will be fit to bottle in six or eight weeks. 

ORANGE WINE. 

Boil thirty pounds of lump sugar in ten gallons of 
water for half an hour, taking off the scum as it rises. 
When the water has become nearly cold, put to it the 
juice of one hundred Seville oranges and the peel of fifty; 
ferment with half a pint of yeast on a toast ; let it stand 
twenty-four hours to ferment ; then put it into the cask 
with one quart of brandy. When fermentation ceases 
stop it close for three months ; then rack it off, and put it 
again into the cask with one quart more brandy and one 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 2(>7 

;and a half pounds of raw sugar. This will be fit to bottle 
in twelve months. 

YELLOW PICKLE. 

To each gallon of malt vinegar take a quarter of a 
pound of brown mustard seed, two ounces of long pepper, 
two ounces of black pepper, two ounces of garlic, one 
ounce of turmeric, quarter of an ounce of mace, half a 
pound of salt, and a few roots of horse-radish. Let the 
salt and spice be well dried, and put them into the vine- 
gar cold. Gather your vegetables on a dry day, strew 
over them a little salt, and let them stand two or three 
clays, then put them on a hair sieve, either in the sun or 
by the fire to dry. Put them in a large jar w f ith the 
vinegar, and let it stand by the fire for ten days ; it must 
not, however, be allowed to become any hotter than new 
milk. 

The above pickle is much relished by those who like 
very hot things, but for ordinary palates the receipt 
given below is more confidently recommended. 

TO RENDER LEATHER BOOTS WATERPROOF. 

Melt over a slow fire one quart of boiled linseed oil ; 
one pound of mutton suet, three-quarters of a pound of 
yellow beeswax, and half a pound of common resin, or 
smaller quantities in these proportions. With this mix- 
ture saturate the leather of new boots and shoes, having 
previously made them rather warm. 

TO PREPARE BLACK INK FROM ELDERBERRIES. 

Put a quantity of elderberries into an earthenware 
pan ; bruise them, and let them ferment for three days 



268 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

in a warm temperature. Squeeze out the juice by com- 
pressing them in a thick cloth, and filter it. Then add 
half an ounce of sulphate of iron (green copperas) to each 
six pints of juice, and mix with it half an ounce of com- 
mon acetic acid. This ink writes very freely, and flows 
readily from the pen, nor does it become thick when 
exposed to the atmosphere, like ordinary writing ink. 
When this ink is first used, the writing appears of a 
violet color, but it gradually assumes a deep blue-black 
hue, owing to the absorption of oxygen from the atmos- 
phere. 

TO PESERVE BREAD FOR LONG PERIODS. 

Cut the bread into thick slices, and bake it in an 
oven, so as to render it perfectly dry. In this condition 
it will keep good for any length of time required, and 
without turning moldy or sour, like ordinary bread. 
The bread thus prepared must, however, be carefully 
preserved from pressure, otherwise, owing to its brittle- 
ness. it will soon fall to pieces. When required for use 
it will only be necessary to dip the bread for an instant 
into warm water, and then hold it before the fire till dry. 
and then butter it, when it will taste like toast. This is 
a useful way of preserving bread for sea voyages, and also 
any bread that may be too stale to be eaten in the usual 
way. 

REMOVING INK STAINS. 

As furniture, books, papers, and other articles of value 
are liable to become disfigured by ink stains, any inform- 
ation about the safest means of removing them is of 
value. Owing to the black color of writing ink depend- 
ing upon the iron it contains, the usual method is to 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 209 

■employ some dilute acid in which the iron is soluble, and 
this, dissolving out the iron, takes away the color of the 
stain. Almost any acid will answer for this purpose, but 
it is of course necessaiy to employ those only that are 
not likely to injure the articles to which we apply them. 
A solution of oxalic acid may be used for this purpose, 
and answers very well. It has, however, the great dis- 
advantage of being very poisonous, and thus requiring 
caution in its use. Citric acid and tartaric acid, which 
are quite harmless, are therefore to be preferred, espe- 
cially as they may be used on the most delicate fabrics 
without any danger of injuring them. They may also 
be employed to remove marks of ink from books, as they 
do not injure printing ink, into the composition of which 
iron does not enter. Lemon juice, which contains citric 
acid, may also be used for the same purpose, but it does 
not succeed so well as the pure acid. 

GERMAN METHOD OF KEEPING CUCUMBERS FOR WINTER TJSE. 

Pare and slice (as for the table), sprinkle well with 
salt, in which leave the cucumbers twenty-four hours ; 
strain the liquor well off and pack in jars, a thick layer 
of cucumbers and then salt alternately ; tie close, and 
when wanted for use take out the quantity required, 
which rinse in fresh water, and dress as usual with pep- 
per, vinegar and oil. 

WHAT TO DO WITH STALE BREAD. 

When stale bread has become so hard that it cannot 
be eaten, it should be grated into coarse powder, and pre- 
served in wide-mouthed bottles or jars. When kept well 



270 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

covered up and in a dry place, it will keep good for a 
considerable time. Bread thus powdered will be found 
very useful for the preparation of puddings, stuffings, 
and similar purposes. 

PRESERVATION OF EGGS. 

No item of food is perhaps more invaluable in domes- 
tic economy than the egg. There are several methods of 
preserving eggs — some for longer times and some for 
shorter. When it is required to preserve them only for 
shorter times — say several months — it is inexpedient, as 
well as undesirable, to adopt those processes calculated to 
preserve them for longer times — say a year or more. It 
must be borne in mind that in all processes of preserving 
eggs, it is essential that the eggs should be new-laid when 
submitted to the process. 

MODES OF PRESERVATION FOR LONGER TIMES. 

1. Take a box, barrel or pan, and cover the bottom 
with a layer of pounded salt about half an inch deep ; lay 
upon it a layer of eggs as close together as possible with- 
out touching each other ; throw in pounded salt so as to 
fill up all the interstices between the eggs, and just to 
cover them : lav in a second laver of eggs as before, and 
repeat the process until the box is full. Let the layer of 
eggs at the top of the box be covered an inch deep in salt, 
and let the salt be pressed down as firmly as consistent 
with not breaking the eggs. Cover the box tightly with 
a close lid or double sacking, and keep it in a dry, cool 
place. Eggs are sometimes placed in a net, a sieve or a 
cullender, and immersed for an instant in a cauldron of 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 271 

boiling water immediately before packing them away. 
2. Take a bushel of quicklime, three pounds of salt, and 
half a pound of cream of tartar ; place them in a barrel or 
pan, and mix them with water to the consistence of thick 
cream, just thin enough for the eggs to float in. Place as 
many eggs as can be contained in this liquid, and cover 
over with a sack or old blanket. In this way eggs may be 
kept for a year or two. 3. Place eggs in a tub or barrel, 
and fill in the tub with a thick batter of lime, made by 
mixing quicklime with water. Let all the eggs be fully 
covered, and the vessel full to the top. Cover over with 
a blanket or sack, and keep in a cool place. The eggs 
may, at pleasure^ be immersed for an instant in boiling 
water, as in the former processes. 

MODES OF PRESERVATION FOR SHORTER TIMES. 

1. Place the eggs in a strong string or worsted net, 
and suspend the net from the ceiling ; constantly — say 
daily — hang up the net of eggs by a different mesh, in 
order that all the eggs may be turned and exposed on all 
sides to the action of the air. By this process eggs may 
be preserved for a limited period, and the yolks prevented 
from sticking to the shells. The period they will keep 
under this process may be increased by their being pre- 
liminarily immersed in boiling water for a period from the 
space of an instant to two minutes. 2. Rub the eggs 
while new-laid with fresh butter, lard, or gum-water, any 
of which serve as a preservative by means of excluding 
the air from the pores of the shell ; place the eggs in a 
net or basket, and keep turned twice a week. Eggs 
should always be kept in a dry place, but cool, as in the 



272 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

damp they generally become musty. 3. Parboil the eggs 
— that is, plunge them in boiling water for a minute, or 
at most two, and store them bv in a net or basket, being- 
careful to keep them turned as in the former processes. 
After being parboiled they may be rubbed over, while 
hot, with lard or fresh butter, which will greatly extend 
the period for which they will keep. 

7Ve would especially call the attention of all mothers 
of families and careful housewives to these simple and 
easy methods of preserving eggs, by which from 50 to 100 
per cent may be saved by a little forethought and pru- 
dence. Eggs for the Christmas custards and puddings 
cannot be bought cheaper than 25 cents a dozen, whereas 
in May good fresh eggs may be bought at the markets at 
the rate of 10 to 15 cents a dozen, and be preserved for 
the winter, equal to those to be then purchased at 25 cents 
a dozen. 

RICE DRESSED IN THE ITALIAN MANNER. 

"Wash eight ounces of rice, and cook them for a quar- 
ter of an hour with a spoonful of stock and four ounces of 
butter. Now prepare a mixture of the yolks of four 
eg"gs, to which two ounces of Parmesan cheese and a 
little coarse pepper have been added ; mix them all with 
the rice, and serve in the manner directed for potage. 

RICE DRESSED IN THE TURKISH MANNER. 

Take ei^ht ounces of rice, and wash them manv times 
m water, steep them in some hot water, drain them, and 
put into a saucepan. Then swell the rice with some good 
gravy soup, taking care not to add too much. Divide the 
rice into two portions, taking one-half and beating it 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 273 

with some ground saffron, four peppercorns in powder, a 
piece of butter, some beef marrow, and a little jelly pre- 
pared from a fowl. Mix them all together, and serve up 
in a soup tureen or deep dish with the gravy soup by 
itself. 

TO REMOVE GREASE FROM SILK. 

Lay the silk on a table on a clean, white cloth. Cover 
the damage thickly with powdered French chalk. On 
this lay a sheet of blotting paper, and on the top a hot 
iron. If the grease does not disappear at once, repeat 
the process. 

TO REMOVE PORT WINE STAINS. 

If a glass of port wine is spilt on a dress or table 
cloth, immediately dash all over it a glass of sherry. 
Rub vigorously with dry, soft cloths. No stains will 
be left. 

TO CLEAN LADIES' KID BOOTS. 

Dip a rag in almond oil, and remove all the mud from 
the boot, a piece at a time, drying as you go, and never 
leaving the leather moist. Polish with clean rag and 
more oil. If you dislike the dullness this process leaves, 
when quite dry polish with the palm of the hand. Kid 
is thus both cleaned and preserved. 

CLEANING COPPER. 

When it is desired to obtain a clean, bright surface 
upon copper, it is customary in all countries to use nitric 
acid. In this way the desired surface is obtained with 
little trouble and at once. There is, however, the objec 
tion that a considerable quantity of nitrous fumes are 
given off, and these red vapors are not only extremely 



274 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

disagreeable, but are very prejudicial to health. The 
production of these vapors may be avoided by adding 
little solution of bichromate of potash to the dilute nitric 
acid. Experiment proves that this answers perfectly. 
The copper surface is brought out clean and bright, with- 
out any disengagement of vapors. On sanitary grounds, 
this method of operating deserves to become extensively 
known. In the manufacture of copperware. a great deal 
of this cleaning is done, and the frequent exposure to the 
fumes cannot but be very injurious to the workmen. 

RED DTK. 

Take of white wine vinegar one quart, powdered 
Brazil wood two ounces, and alum half an ounce : in. 
them together for ten davs. then let them gentlv simmer 
over a slow fire, after which add a good half ounce of 
ffum arabic. When the gum is dissolved, strain the mix- 
ture and bottle it for use. Ink thus prepared will keep 
its color for manv vears. 

VTOLET LXK. 

Boil a good quantity of logwood chips in vinegar, and 
add to the mixture a little alum and gum arabic. The 
depth of the tint may be modified by varying the pro- 
portions of logwood and vinegar. 

BLACK DTK. 

Heat a quart of rain water till it almost boils, and 
then put into it two ounces of green copperas : when cold 
strain it. and add to the liquor five ounces of powdered 
galls and two ounces of loaf-sugar. This ink keeps its 
color well. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 275 

BRINE FOR PICKLING MEAT. OR FISH. 

By reason of no denned system being generally 
known for ascertaining the intensity of brine, meat is 
occasionally spoilt, as it will become tainted in parts if 
the brine is not sufficiently strong to meet the tempera- 
ture of the weather ; the other extreme, of salting meat 
in very strong brine, is equally objectionable, as it ren- 
ders the exterior of the meat disagreeably salt and hard, 
while the interior is next to fresh, the flesh remaining 
soft and unset. Much perplexity, too, is often felt b}^ 
the housewife to decide whether the meat is sufficiently 
salted, as the time required for salting will depend on the 
intensity of the brine. This, too may be saved by 
observing the simple yet scientific method which we shall 
prescribe : In temperate weather brine should be com- 
posed of about twenty-four parts of salt to seventy-six 
parts of water, its specific gravity being to that of water 
as 1180 to 1000. Thus, by taking a bottle that will hold 
ten ounces of water, salt your brine until the same bottle 
holds eleven ounces and three-quarters. In verv hot 
weather the brine should be stronger — twenty-eight 
parts of salt to seventy-two parts of water. 

CRACKNELS. 

Beat up eight eggs with the same number of spoon- 
fuls of water, and a grated nutmeg. Pour them on three 
quarts of flour, and add sufficient water to make the flour 
into a thick paste. Then mix with it two pounds of 
batter, roll it into cracknels, and bake them on tin 
plates. 



276 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

BISCUIT DROPS. 

Beat up four eggs with a pound of finely powdered 
loaf sugar, and a small quantity of water ; add the same 
weight of flour, and some caraway seeds. Then butter 
the surface of a sheet of white paper, and lay the mixture 
on in spoonfuls ; sprinkle them over with fine sugar, and 
bake them at a moderate heat. 

" HOUSEHOLD GUIDE " SAUCE. 

By the following receipt a sauce may be made as 
good for most ordinary purposes as the more expensive 
sauces, and especially useful where economy is an object. 
In one quart of good vinegar boil six shallots chopped 
fine, and twelve cloves; when cold add quarter of an 
ounce of cayenne pepper, half an ounce of sugar candy, 
half a gill of soy. half a gill of mushroom catsup, and 
half a gill of the vinegar from pickled walnuts. This 
must be shaken daily for a month, when it will be fit for 
use, or it may be closely corked up and kept for an 
unlimited time. 

LIEBIG SANDWICHES. 

For travelers or invalids, Liebig's Extract of Meat 
makes a very nice and nutritious sandwich. Directions : 
Cut four thin slices of bread, and butter, using the best 
fresh butter. Spread over two of the slices a thin layer 
of the extract, with a little mustard. The extract is 
generally sufficiently salt, but it may be added if desired. 
Place on the top of these two slices the other two slices 
of bread and butter ; cut off the crust, or not, as required, 
and cut the slices into three. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 277 

queen's BISCUITS. 

Make a soft paste of the following materials: A 
pound and a half of flour, the same weight of powdered 
loaf sugar, the yolks of eighteen eggs and the whites of 
twenty-four, and a sufficient quantity of crushed corian- 
der seeds. A little yeast may also be added, if desired. 
Make the paste into biscuits, and bake them on paper, at 
a moderate heat, until they begin to turn brown. 

nun's biscuits. 
Beat up the whites of a dozen eggs, and add to them 
sixteen ounces of almonds, blanched and pounded into a 
paste. Then beat up the yolks of the eggs with two 
pounds of powdered loaf sugar, and then mix all to- 
gether. Add to these half a pound of flour, the peel of 
four lemons grated, and also some citron peel sliced small, 
and make the whole into a paste, which should be put in 
patty pans previously buttered, and only half filled, and 
then baked in a quick oven. When the biscuits begin to 
turn brown turn them in the tins, sprinkle some sugar 
over them, and again put them in the oven until done. 

SHERRY BISCUITS. 

Take one pound of lump sugar, eight eggs, and a suf- 
ficient quantity of sherry wine, beat them well together, 
and then add a pound of flour and half an ounce of 
coriander seeds. Pour the paste into buttered tins, and 
bake them at a gentle heat for half an hour ; then turn 
them, and cover their surfaces with some more eggs and 
sugar, and replace them in the oven for another quarter 
of an hour. 



278 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. •. 

ANISEED BISCUITS. 

Mix together half a peck of flour, half a pint of yeast, 
an ounce and a half of aniseed, with four eggs and a 
sufficient quantity of milk. Make these materials into a 
roll-shaped cake, and bake it ; then cut it in slices, like 
toast. Cover them with powdered sugar and dry them 
in an oven, and while hot again apply more sugar to the 
surfaces. 

SAVOY BISCUITS. 

Beat up twelve eggs with three spoonsful of water, 
adding gradually a pound of finely powdered loaf sugar. 
When the mixture becomes of the consistence of thick 
cream, mix with it a pound of fine flour previously dried, 
and mold it into long cakes, which are to be baked in a 
slow oven. Savoy biscuits may also be prepared in the 
following way: Take about six eggs and weigh them, 
and afterward beat them into froth, and mix with them 
some fresh-grated lemon peel, beaten with a little sugar 
in a mortar into powder. Then beat up with them the 
same weight of sugar, as of the eggs employed, and also 
the same quantity of flour. When the materials are made 
into a paste, mold it into biscuits, sprinkle white sugar 
on them, and bake them on paper at a moderate heat. 

LISBON BISCUITS. 

Beat up four eggs with five spoonfuls of flour, and 
one of powdered white sugar, and pour it over a sheet of 
white paper, previously sprinkled with powdered sugar; 
sprinkle more sugar on its surface, and bake it at a mod- 
erate heat. When done, cut the biscuit into pieces, and 
remove the paper. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 279 

CHOCOLATE BISCUITS. 

Mix some chocolate powder with white of eggs, and 
powdered loaf sugar, into a paste. Mold this into bis- 
cuits, and bake them at a gentle heat on a sheet of white 
paper. 

JASMINE BISCUITS. 

Beat up some jasmine flowers, freshly gathered, with 
white of eggs and loaf sugar. Make them into small bis- 
cuits, lay them on paper covered with sugar, and sprinkle 
more on their surfaces. These biscuits require to be 
baked at a moderate heat. 

CRUMPETS 

Are made in the same way as muffins, only the paste 
is still softer, approaching batter in its consistency. 
Let them also rise well. Bake slightly in like manner on 
an iron plate made for the purpose. The usual size and 
thickness of crumpets you learn from the specimens sold 
in the shops. After toasting, muffins should be crisp; 
crumpets soft and woolly. It is like eating a bit of blan- 
ket soaked in butter. If you are pining for crumpets and 
have no iron plate, you may bake them in the frying pan, 
which is often used for cake marking. 

MUFFINS. 

With warm milk, a liberal allowance of yeast, flour, a 
little salt, and an egg or two, make dough still softer in 
its consistence than the above. After kneading or beat- 
ing, get it to rise well. Then make your muffins as you 
would small dumplings ; dust them with flour, flatten 
them, and bake them slightly on a hot iron plate, or in 



280 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

tin rings, turning them to bake the upper side when the 
under side is done. The great object is to keep them 
light, moist, and full of eyes. Muffin-making is a pro- 
fession, but its secrets are not inscrutable. Once possessed 
of the iron plate (which you will be able to obtain without 
difficulty of any ironmonger), a few trials will put you in 
the way ; and if you have one or two failures at first, they 
will be eaten with the greater relish because they are your 
failures. Before toasting a muffin, cut it nearly in two, 
leaving it slightly attached in the middle. When toasted 
brown and crisp on both sides, slip the butter into the 
gaping slit, and serve on a plate not quite red-hot. 

RICE WITH ONIONS. 

Cut the onions into pieces the size and shape of dice, 
using only the bulbs for that purpose, the other parts of 
the onion not being suitable. Then put them in a pan 
with a little butter, and let theni remain on the fire until 
brown. Then pour in sufficient water to make the re- 
quired quantity of soup, and season with salt and fine 
pepper. Afterward put into the saucepan four ounces of 
rice — or more if required — and boil them together for 
an hour and a half. 

RAISED BUCKWHEAT CAKES. 

"Warm a quart of water. Stir into it a good table- 
spoonful of treacle, and a teaspoonful of salt. Mix in 
enough buckwheat flour (or oatmeal or Indian corn flour) 
to make a stiff batter, together with a tablespoonful of 
good yeast. Let it stand to rise before the fire. Then 
bake on a hot plate, in iron rings, like muffins, or in a 
slack oven. Toast and eat it hot with butter. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 281 

FRIED BREAD CAKES. 

To a quantity of light dough equal to five teacupfuls, 
add half a cupful of butter, three of brown sugar, a tea- 
spoonful of salt, four eggs, and a little grated nutmeg. 
Knead these well together with flour ; let them rise be- 
fore the fire until very light. Knead the dough again 
after it rises ; cut it into diamond-shaped cakes ; let them 
rise ; and fry in lard or dripping, as soon as light. These 
cakes are best eaten fresh. 

JOHNNY, OR JOURNEY CAKE. 

Boil a pint of sweet milk ; pour it over a teacupful 
and a half of Indian cornmeal, and' beat it for fifteen 
minutes. Unless well beaten it will not be light. Add a 
little salt, half a teacupful of sour milk, one beaten egg, a 
tablespoonful of oiled butter, a tablespoonful of flour, and 
a teaspoonful of carbonate of soda. Beat well together 
again. This cake is best baked in a spider (a deep iron 
pan) on the stove. When browned on the bottom, turn it 
into another spider, or finish it off on the griddle. 

A PLEASANT STRENGTHENING- DRINK. 

Boil very gently in a saucepan the following ingre- 
dients : The rind of a lemon, a small piece of cinnamon, 
and a teaspoonful of pearl barley, in about one pint of 
water. When the barley is tender, strain through a fine 
sieve, and sweeten with a spoonful of treacle, honey or 
sugar, according to taste. 

POTATO BREAD. 

Boil the required quantity of mealy potatoes in their 
skins; drain, dry and then peel them. Crush them on 



232 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

a board with a rolling pin, till they are a stiff paste 
without lumps. Then mix your yeast with, them, and 
flour equal in quantity to the potatoes. Add water 
enough to make the whole into dough, and knead the 
mass well. When risen, set into a gentle oven. Do 
not close the door immediately, but bake a little longer 
than for ordinary bread. Without these precautions the 
crust will be hard and brittle, while the inside still re- 
mains moist and pasty. Other flours can be in like man- 
ner made into bread with a mixture of potatoes, but they 
are best cooked as cakes on the hearth, or in the way given 
below for potato cake. In Scotland oatmeal is frequently 
mixed with wheaten flour in making cakes, and in the 
west of Ireland with maize flour in making stirabout. 

POTATO CAKE. 

Very acceptable to children at supper, especially if 
they have had the fun of seeing it made. Cold potatoes, 
if dry and floury, will serve for this. If you have none, 
boil some, as for potato bread. Crush them with but- 
ter and salt ; mix in a small proportion of flour (wheaten, 
oaten, rye or maize) and a little yeast (the last may be 
omitted at pleasure), and with milk work the whole to 
the consistency of very firm dough. Roll it out to the 
thickness of an inch and a half or two inches. Cut it 
out the size of your frying pan, the bottom of which you 
smear with grease, and in it lay your cake, after flour- 
ing it all over. Bake, covered with a plate, on the 
trivet of your stove, over a gentle fire, or better, on the 
hearth, when wood is burnt. Shake and shift it a little 
from time to time, to prevent burning. When half 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. "JbS 

done, turn it, and cover with a plate again. Other cakes 
of unfermented pastes may be baked in the same way. 

RECEIPT FOR CORN BREAD. 

Take half a pint, good measure, of white Indian meal, 
which should be rather coarsely ground ; mix it thor- 
oughly in a large bowl, with one pint of fresh milk, and 
do not imagine, because it seems so thin, that I have 
made a mistake, or suspect the printer, but do as you are 
bid. Put in what salt is necessary, and into the batter 
break one fresh egg, and with a kitchen fork beat the 
whole together quickly and thoroughly. Have your 
oven pretty hot, but not scorching. - Into a splay-sided 
round tin pan, of say four inches diameter at the bottom, 
and two and a half to three inches deep, pour your bat- 
ter (which will about half fill the pan), and put it into 
the oven instantly. It ought to bake, if the oven is 
properly regulated, in about half an hour. It must be 
perfectly done to be good. It is to be eaten hot, before 
the upper crust falls, and buttered to taste. 

CANDIED HOREHOUND. 

Take some horehound and boil it till the juice is ex- 
tracted, when sugar, which has been previously boiled 
until candied, must be added to it. Stir the compound 
over the fire until it thickens. Pour it out into a paper 
case dusted over with fine sugar, and cut it into squares 
or any other shapes desired. 

PEPPERMINT DROPS. 

A brass or block-tin saucepan must be rubbed over 
inside with a little butter. Put into it half a pound of 



284 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

crushed lump sugar with a tablespoonful or so of water. 
Place it over the fire and let it boil briskly for ten min- 
utes, when a dessertspoonful of essence of peppermint is 
to be stirred into it. It may then be let fall in drops 
upon writing paper, or poured out upon plates which have 
been rubbed over with butter. 

GINGER DROPS. 

Mix one ounce of prepared ginger with one pound of 
loaf sugar ; beat to a paste two ounces of fresh candied 
orange in a mortar, with a little sugar. Put the above 
into a brass or block-tin saucepan with a little water. Stir 
them all well, and boil until they are sufficiently amal- 
gamated, which will be when the mixture thickens like 
ordinary candied sugar. Pour out on writing paper in 
drops, or on plates as for peppermint drops. 

LEMON DROPS. 

Grate three large lemons ; then take a large piece of 
best lump sugar and reduce it to a powder. Mix the 
sugar and lemon on a plate with half a teaspoonful of 
flour, and beat the compound with the white of an egg 
until it forms a light paste. It must then be placed in 
drops on a clean sheet of writing paper, and placed before 
the fire — to dry hard rather than to bake. 

DAMSON DROPS. 

Take some damsons and bake them without breaking 
them. Eemove the skins and stones, and reduce them to 
a fine pulp by pressing them through a sieve. Sift upon 
the pulp some crushed lump sugar, and mix it with a 
knife or spatula until it becomes stiff. Place it upon 



HOUSEHOLD* RECIPES. 2S5 

writing paper in the form of drops ; put them in a gentle 
■oven to dry, and when dry take them out and turn them 
on a sieve. Then wet the paper, and the drops will sepa- 
rate from it, after which they are again to be placed in a 
very slack oven and dried until they are hard. They are 
placed in layers in a box with paper between each layer, 
and in that way will keep well if air and damp are 
excluded. 

RASPBERRY DROPS. 

Gently boil some raspberries with a little water, and 
then remove the skins and seeds, after which a pulpy 
juice will remain. To one pound of this juice add the 
whites of two eggs and one pound of sifted lump sugar, 
well beat up together. The addition must be gradually 
made, and the mixture well beat up for a couple of hours. 
When arrived at a proper degree of consistency, the com- 
position is to be placed in large drops upon paper slightly 
rubbed over with butter. They may be dried either in a 
warm sun or before a slow fire, but not hastily. A larger 
raspberry drop or lozenge is made as follows : Take of 
raspberries two or three pounds, and boil them slowly, 
stirring them until there is little or no juice left ; then 
put into the saucepan as much moist or crusted sugar as 
there was fruit at first ; mix the two off the fire, and 
when thoroughly incorporated spread the compound upon 
plates — ■ china or ironstone are best — and let it dry either 
in the sun or before a slow fire. When the top is dried, 
stamp or cut into small cakes of any shape you choose ; 
set these again down to dry, and when ready lay them in 
boxes, with a sheet of paper between each layer. Like 
all similar preparations, they are best kept quite free from 



286 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

all damp; and therefore tin boxes, with closely fitting- 
lids, are better than any other. At the same time, more 
depends upon the dryness of the place they are kept in 
than upon the material of the box. 

MOTHS. 

If furs or apparel be inclosed in a box with a little 
oil of turpentine, they will remain free from the larvae of 
moths. 

TO ERASE STAINS OF INK, GREASE, ETC. 

A very weak solution of sulphuric acid will readily 
take ink stains from the hands, out must on no account 
be used with textile fabrics. For the latter, the best 
preparation we have tried is Perry's ink eraser, which 
can safely be recommended. The same manufacturer has 
also produced a preparation for removing grease stains, 
cleaning gloves, and similar operations, which may be 
thus readily and satisfactorily done at home. 

A FRENCH PREPARATION FOR REMOVING GREASE OR OIL STAINS. 

Take some dry white soap, scraped into a fine powder, 
and mix it up in a mortar with a sufficient quantity of 
alcohol, until dissolved. Then add the yolk of an egg, 
and mix them together. When sufficiently mixed, put in 
a small quantity of spirits of turpentine, and make the 
whole up into the consistence of thick paste by the addi- 
tion of a sufficient quantity of fuller's earth. When 
required for use, this preparation is to be rubbed over the 
grease or oil stains, which should be previously moistened 
with warm water. When the spots are got rid of, 
remove the composition with a sponge, or soft brush. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. '287 

This composition may be used for every kind of stain, 
except those caused by ink or rust. 

A LIQUID PREPARATION FOR THE SAME PURPOSE. 

To prepare this cleaning liquid, mix together in a 
phial, furnished with a stopper, equal quantities of 
alcohol and rectified sulphuric ether, with eight times the 
quantity of rectified oil of turpentine. A little essential 
oil of lemon may also be added, to remove the smell of 
the turpentine. That kind of alcohol and sulphuric ether 
which is prepared from methylated spirit, which is very 
cheap, will answer as well as that made from pure spirit, 
which is much dearer. It is necessary that the stopper 
of the bottle should fit as accurately as possible, owing to< 
the volatile nature of the liquids employed. When it is 
wished to remove an oil or grease spot, the liquid should 
be applied to the spot, and rubbed over it with a piece of 
soft sponge. When we wish to get rid of an old stain, it 
is advisable to warm it previously to applying the liquid. 

INDIAN CHUTNEE. 

Take a pint of vinegar, add to it half a pound of 
brown sugar, and boil them till they become a thin syrup. 
Then add one pound of tamarinds, simmer gently for a 
few minutes, and, when cool, strain through a cullender. 
Then add half a pound of sour apples, peeled and cored, 
and boil till quite soft ; when cool, add a quarter of a 
pound of raisins (stoned) and two ounces of garlic, both 
well pounded ; and afterward, two ounces of salt, two 
ounces of powdered ginger, two ounces of mustard, and 
one ounce of cayenne. Mix well together, and put into 



2SS HOUSEHOLD EECLPES. 

covered jars, which must be allowed to stand by the fire 
for twelve hours. The longer :.:> :s : : ~ he better it 
will become. 

PASTE FOE MOLDLXG. 

Melt some glue in water, and let it be tolerably 
strong. Mix with this whiting until it is as firm as 
: _-. :.: '-.:: work it into the molds, which must be pre- 
viously oiled. 

POLISH FOE MARBLE. 

Melt over a slow fire four ounces of white wax. and 
while it is warm stir into it with a wooden spatula an 
equal weight of oil of turpentine: when thoroughly 
incorporated put the mixture into a bottle or other vessel. 
which must be well corked whenever not in use. A little 
of the above is put upon a piece of flannel, and well 
rubbed upon the marble. Another: Tine rotten stone 
with olive oil. nibbed upon the marble till the desired 

luster is attained. 

gbegoey's powder. 

Half an ounce of Drinker, one ounce and a half of rhu- 
o. four ounces of calcined magnesia. Mix. Dose : 

from twenty to thirty grains. Stomachic, antacid, and 

laxative. 

ENDIA EFBBEE VAEXISH FOR BOOTS. 

Dissolve half an ounce of asphaltum in one ounce of 
oil of turpentine, also dissolve a quarter of an ounce of 
caoutchouc in two ounces of mineral naphtha. The two 
solutions are to be mixed before application. 

OPODELDOC. 

Opodeldoc and s oap liniment are the same thing. It 
is a popular external application for local pains and swell- 



<r 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 289 

ings, bruises, sprains and rheumatism. There are several 
ways of making it. One recipe is: One ounce of camphor, 
five ounces of castile soap, one drachm of oil of rosemary, 
one and a quarter pints of rectified spirits of wine and 
one and a quarter pints of water. This requires to digest 
for a week, and to be occasionally stirred. When ready, 
filter and bottle for use. 

EATJ DE COLOGNE. 

An excellent form of eau de cologne may be thus pre- 
pared : Take two drachms of the seeds of the lesser carda- 
mom and put them into a still with two quarts of recti- 
fied spirits of wine and add twenty-four drops of each of 
the following oils : bergamot, lemon, orange, neroli, rose- 
mary and cedrat ; allow them to remain for a few days 
and then distil three pints of perfume. Sometimes a 
stronger preparation is made by employing half the quan- 
tity of spirit to the same quantity of materials. This 
preparation may also be made by omitting the seeds and 
dissolving the oils in the spirit without distillation. In 
this case the perfume will be improved by allowing the 
eau de cologne, when made, to remain at rest in a cool 
place, such as a dry wine cellar, for two or three months 
before being used. 

A good kind of eau de cologne is thus prepared : Take 
a quarter of an ounce of the oils of lemon and bergamot, 
and half that quantity of oil of orange peel, half a drachm 
of oil of rosemary, and forty drops of the oil of neroli, 
and dissolve them in one pint of rectified spirits of wine. 
This preparation will be much improved by the addition 
of a few drops of the essences of musk and ambergris. 

19 



290 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

A very superior kind of eau de cologne may be manu- 
factured by distilling thirty drops of each of the oils of 
orange peel, bergamot and rosemary, dissolved in half a 

pint of rectified spirits of wine, with thirty grains of car- 
damom seeds and half a pint of orange-flower water. 
The materials are mixed together and allowed to remain 
for a few days before distillation, and then half a pint of 
the perfume is to be distilled from them. This perfume 
may also be obtained by dissolving the oils mentioned, to- 
gether with half the quantity of the oil of neroli, in the 
spirit, and allowing them to remain a few days before 
use. 

Another form for preparing eau de cologne directs the 
employment of eau de melisse des carmes, three pints, and 
t:ie same quantity of compound spirit of balm, one quart 
spirits of rosemary, three ounces each of the oils of cedrat, 
lemon and bergamot, half that quantity of the oils of lav- 
ender, neroli and rosemary, and three-quarters of an 
ounce of the oil of cinnamon ; the whole to be dissolved 
in three gallons of rectified spirits of wine. The form 
now given is that of the Paris Codex, and the materials 
are directed to be digested for eight days, and then three 
gallons distilled. 

An excellent kind of eau de cologne may be prepared, 
which is scented principally with bergamot, as in the fol- 
lowing recipe : Take one drachm of the oil of bergamot, 
dissolve it in half a pint of rectified spirits of wine, and 
add eight drops of the oil of lemons, four drops each of 
neroli and rosemary, six drops of the oil of cedrat, and a 
drop and a half of the oil of balm. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 291 

TO CLEAN AND RENOVATE VELVET. 

With a stiff brush, clipped in a fluid composed of equal 
parts of water and spirits of hartshorn, rub the velvet 
very carefully. When the stains have disappeared, the 
pile of the velvet may be raised thus : Cover a hot 
smoothing iron with a wet cloth and hold the velvet 
spread over it. The vapor will raise the pile of the velvet, 
with the assistance of an occasional whisk from a brush. 

TO REMOVE GREASE SPOTS FROM DRESSES (WOOLEN), FURNI- 
TURE, CARPETS, TABLECLOTHS, ETC. 

Make the poker red-hot. Hold it ov T er the grease 
spot, Avithin an inch of the material. In a second or two 
the grease will disappear. Be sure not to let the poker 
touch the material to burn it. 

DAMP WALLS. 

Boil two quarts of tar with two ounces of kitchen 
grease in an iron saucepan for a quarter of an hour ; to 
this mixture add some slaked lime and very finely 
pounded glass, which has previously been through a hair 
sieve. The proportions should be two parts lime to one 
of glass, worked to the thickness of a thin plaster. This 
cement must be used as soon as made, or else it will be- 
come too hard. One coat, about an inch thick, has gen- 
erally answered the purpose, but if the wall is very damp, 
it may receive two coats,. Paint over the cement or 
plaster, and paper may be used to cover it. 

FRECKLES. 

To remove freckles, take one ounce of lemon juice, a 
quarter of a drachm of powdered borax, and half a 



292 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

drachm of sugar ; mix, and let them stand a few days in 
a glass bottle, then rub it on the face and hands occa- 
sionally. 

TO RESTORE PLATED CRUET STANDS, CANDLESTICKS, ETC., WHEN 
THE SILVER IS WORN OFF. 

Purchase at the chemist's four cents' worth of mer- 
cury, and two cents' worth of prepared chalk, mixed as 
a powder. Half the chalk may be used. Make it into a 
paste with a little water, in a saucer, and with a small 
piece of leather rub the article until the tarnish quite dis- 
appears. Polish with a leather. If this powder is used 
about once a week to plated articles, when worn, they 
will be kept as white as silver. 

TO CLEAN DIRTY OR STAINED FURNITURE. 

If the furniture is in a bad state, but not stained, it 
will be sufficient to cleanse it by well washing with 
spirits of turpentine, and afterward polishing with lin- 
seed oil colored with alkanet root. When, however, the 
furniture is stained or inky, it should be washed with sour 
beer or vinegar, warm, afterward rubbing the stains 
with spirit of salts, rubbed on with a piece of rag, which 
will remove all the stains. The wood may then be pol- 
ished, either with linseed oil colored with alkanet root, or 
with beeswax dissolved in turpentine, with a little copal 
varnish or resin added. 

TO RENDER NEW MAHOGANY LIKE OLD. 

This is of service in the cases of furniture repaired, or 
when lacquered handles have been changed for mahogany 
ones. Soap and water will darken to some extent; but] l 
darker is required, use oil ; or for very dark, lime water. 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 203 

TO CLEAN LACQUERED BRASS WORK OR FURNITURE. 

Wash in warm water, using a soft rag. If the work 
will not clean by this means, it must be re-lacquered. 

TO MAKE COLORED DRAWINGS OR PRINTS RESEMBLE OIL 

PAINTINGS. 

This is a favorite plan of treating pictures, as it gives 
them a showy appearance, and prevents their requiring 
glasses. Wash over the drawing or print with a solution 
of isinglass, and when dry, apply with a very fine soft 
brush a varnish composed of two parts of spirits of tur- 
pentine and one of Canada balsam, mixed together. 

ASPHALT FOR GARDEN WALKS, FOWL HOUSES, SHEDS, ETC. 

Having laid the walk quite even, and beaten it firm, 
pour upon it a coat of hot tar ; while hot, sift thickly all 
over it road dust or cinder ashes. When cold, repeat the 
same process several times, and a good, hard, durable and 
wholesome flooring will be effected. It is particularly 
recommended for the purpose of fowl houses, as being 
very healthy to the stock. 

WASHING CLOTHES. 

If pipe clay is dissolved in the water, the linen is thor- 
oughly cleansed with half the labor and fully a saving of 
one-fourth of soap ; and the clothes will be improved in 
color equally as if bleached. The pipe-clay softens the 
hardest water. A cent's worth to four gallons of water. 

TO KEEP MOTHS FROM FUR AND WOOLEN CLOTHES. 

In May brush fur and woolen clothes, wrap them 
tightly up in linen and put them away in drawers. Pep- 



294 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

per or red cedar chips are good preservatives from moths, 
but camphor is the best. 

WASHING CHINTZES. 

These should always be washed in dry weather, but if 
it is verv cold it is better to drv them bv the fire than 
risk spoiling the colors from freezing in the open air. It 
is better, if possible, to defer their washing till the weather 
is suitable. 

TO CLEAN PAINT. 

Simmer together in a pipkin one pound of soft soap, 
two ounces of pearlash, one pint of sand, and one pint of 
table beer ; to be used as soap. 

ANOTHER WAY. 

Grate to a fine pulp four potatoes to every quart of 
water : stir it ; then let it settle, and pour off the liquor 
To be used with a sponge. 

COFFEE AS IN FRANCE. 

Coffee should be roasted of a cinnamon color, and to 
make coffee : For one pint of boiling water take two 
ounces and a half of coffee. Put the coffee into boiling 
water ; close the coffee pot, and leave it for two hours on 
a trivet over the fire, so as to keep up the heat without 
making it boil. Stir now and then, and after two hours 
remove it from over the fire, and allow it a quarter of an 
hour to stand near the fire, to settle. Then pour it off to 
serve. Loaf sugar should be used for coffee. 

WASH-LEATHER GLOVES. 

The grease spots should be first removed by rubbing 
them with magnesia, cream of tartar, or Wilmington 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 2l>5 

clay scraped to powder. Make a lather of soap and 
water, put the gloves into the water lukewarm, as hot 
water will shrink them ; wash and squeeze them through 
this, then squeeze them through a second sud. Rinse in 
lukewarm water, then in cold, and dry them in a hot sun 
or before the fire, well stretching them, to prevent them 
from shrinking. 

ANOTHER WAY. 

Place the gloves on the hands, and rub them with a 
soft sponge in lukewarm soap suds. Wash off the soap- 
suds in clear water. Pull and stretch them, and put 
them in the sun, or before the fire, to prevent them from 
shrinking. When nearly dry, put them again on your 
hands, and keep them on till quite dry. 

TO MEND CHINA. 

A very fine cement may be made by boiling down a 
little isinglass, and afterward adding to it about half the 
quantity of spirits of wine, which should be applied 
while warm. This cement is especially valuable in mend- 
ing glass, as it is free from any opaque appearance. A 
very strong cement may be made in the following man- 
ner, and kept for application at any time : Heat a piece 
of white flint stone to a white heat, and cast it, while at 
this heat, into a vessel of cold water, which will reduce it 
to a fine powder. Carefully preserve this flint powder, 
and mix it with resin to the consistency of thick paste. 
The resin should be heated in an earthenware pipkin. 
To apply this cement, heat the edges of the pieces of the 
article to be mended, rub upon them this cement, and 
place them neatly and well together. When dry, scrape 



296 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

off all excrescence of the cement, when the article will 
be perfect. 

WHEN AN EGG CRACKS. 

Eggs sometimes crack upon being immersed in boiling 
water, or are found to be so when required for use. The 
plan to adopt, so as to prevent the contents from oozing 
out, is to gently rub the crack with moistened salt, allow- 
ing a little time for it to penetrate, and then it will boil 
as well as an uncracked one. 

TO CLEAN COLORED FABRICS. 

Nearly all colored fabrics stain the lather used to 
clean them, and that without losing their own brightness 
in any way. ISTo article of a different color must be 
plunged into a wash or rinse so stained, but must have 
fresh ones ; and no colored article must be rinsed in a 
blued lather. Scarlet is particularly prone to color a 
wash. 

Different colors are improved by different substances 
being used in the wash or rinse ; sugar of lead has the 
credit of fixing all colors when first cleaned, and may be 
used to those likely to run. To brighten colors, mix some 
ox-gall, say two pennyworth ; but of course the quantity 
must be regulated by the quantity of suds in the wash 
and rinse. For buff and cream-colored alpaca or cashmere, 
mix in the wash and rinse two pennyworth of friar's 
balsam for one skirt. For black materials for one dress, 
two pennyworth of ammonia in the wash and rinse. For 
violet, ammonia or a small quantity of soda in the rinsing 
water. There are some violets and mauves that fade m 
soda. For green, vinegar in the rinse in the proportion 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 297 

of two tablespoonfuls of vinegar to a quart of rinse. 
For blue, to one dress, a good handful of common salt in 
the rinse. For brown and gray, ox-gall. For white, blue 
the water with laundry blue. 

Dresses, mantles, shawls, opera cloaks, underskirts, 
Garibaldis and Zouaves (the latter and such small articles 
need not be unpicked if the trimming is removed), articles 
embroidered with silk, self-colored or chintz-colored, 
damask curtaining, moreen and other woolen curtaining 
may all be cleansed as specified so far. 

Blankets should be cleaned in the same way. Pull them 
out well, while wet, at both sides and both ends, between 
two persons. When half dry it is a good plan to take 
them off the line, and pull them again ; when quite dry, 
just give them a little more pulling out. This keeps them 
open and soft. Blankets are not blued so much as 
flannels, presently described. Never use soda to them, 
and never rinse them in plain water, or rub on soap. 

The dyers and cleaners have a mode of pressing 
articles which gives to many of them, such as damask 
and moreen curtaining and Paisley shawls, a superior 
appearance to anything that can be achieved at home ; 
but some of them will press articles at a fixed price for 
persons cleaning them at home. 

TO SOFTEN THE SKIN AND IMPROVE THE COMPLEXION. 

Mix a little flowers of sulphur in afternoon milk — 
about a wineglassful. Let it stand all night, to be used 
before washing the next morning. The milk only is to 
be applied to the skin, without disturbing the sulphur. 
It must not be used when kept longer than the morning. 



298 HOUSEHOLD EECIPES. 

MUSLIN DRESSES. 

Even of the most delicate colors, can be cleaned in ten 
minutes or a quarter of an hour, without losing their 
color. Melt half a pound of soap in a gallon of water, 
empty it in a washing tub; place near two other large tubs 
of clean water, and stir into one a quart of bran. Put 
the muslin in the soap, turn it over and knead it for a 
few minutes. Squeeze it out well, but do not wring it lest 
it get torn ; rinse it about quickly in the bran for a couple 
of minutes. Einse again well for a couple of minutes in 
clean water. Squeeze out dr} 7 and hang it between two 
lines. A clear dry day should be chosen to wash muslin 
dresses; half a dozen may be done this way in half an 
hour. The last rinse may be prepared the same way as 
the rinses for woolen fabrics. A colored pattern on a 
white ground must not be blued. The bran may here be 
dispensed with. 

When the dress is dry make the starch ; for a colored 
muslin white starch, and unboiled, but made with boiling- 
water, is best for muslin dresses. Stir the starch with the 
end of a wax candle. Dip the dress. Hang it again to 
dry. When dry, rinse it quickly and thoroughly in clear 
water. Hang it to dry again. Sprinkle and roll it up ; 
afterward iron it with very hot irons. Hot irons keep 
the starch stiff. This rinsing after starching is called 
clear-starching; none of the stiffness, but much of the 
unsightliness, of the starch is removed in this way. 

All kinds of white muslins, lace curtains, cravats, etc., 
may be washed in a thick ley of soap as described, well 
rinsed, blued and starched, like the muslin dresses above 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 290 

named. Use blue starch to white. White muslin Gari- 
baldis should be very slightly blued, and the same may 
be observed of book-muslin dresses and cravats, as blue- 
looking muslin is very unbecoming to the complexion ; a 
slight creamy tinge is preferable. 

Morning cambric dresses may be washed the same 
way as muslin dresses ; but they do not generally clean 
-quite so readily, and perhaps may need rubbing a little in 
places that are soiled. 

The advantage of thus cleansing dresses instead of 
washing them is, first, if colored, the process is so rapid 
that there is not time for the colors to run. Secondly, the 
fabric is not rubbed, and therefore riot strained and worn 
>.out. Thirdly, the process saves nearly all labor, and is 
so quickly done, that any lady may manage it for 
herself in the absence of a laundry maid or a lady's 
maid. 

Many ladies make a strong solution of sugar of lead 
— some put two pennyworth in enough cold water for 
one dress ; stir it well when dissolved, and let the dress, 
muslin or cotton soak a couple of hours to set the colors 
before washing it the first time. It does not need to be 
repeated. Those using sugar of lead should be careful 
not to do so if they have any scratches, abrasions, or 
wounds about their hands. 

Chintz may be cleaned in the same way as muslin and 
print dresses. 

Worsted braids and fancy trimmings can be cleaned 
the same way. 



300 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

TO REPAIR BROKEN WALLS. 

Mix with water equal parts of plaster of Paris and' 
white house sand, with which stop the broken place in 
the wall. 

TO CLEAN LOOKING GLASSES. 

Having dusted the glass with a soft duster quite free 
from grit, in order not to scratch the glass, sponge it with 
diluted spirits of wine or gin, and dust over it a little very 
fine powder through a muslin bag ; rub the glass with a 
light hand, with the soft duster, and finish off with a soft 
piece of silk, or old handkerchief. 

TO CLEAN STONE STEPS AND STAIRS. 

Where there are large flights of stone steps and flagged 
pathways, the process of cleaning is a long and tedious 
one. The common method of cleaning with hearthstone, 
or caked whitening, not only gives a smeary appearance, 
but washes off with a shower of rain. The preparation 
which we here give not only has a great preference in 
appearance, but in the long run saves labor, as with it twice 
a week is sufficient for whitening, and the remaining days 
washing will be found sufficient. Take a gallon of water, 
and color to the intensity of deep-colored blue water with 
stone-blue. Boil in it a pound of white size, and dissolve 
in it a quarter of a pound of whitening and three cakes of 
pipe-clay, stirring it well about. Wash over the steps 
with this solution in a slight, quick manner, and after- 
ward finish with clean water in the usual way. 

LIQUID GLUE AND CEMENT. 

Take of crushed orange shellac four ounces, of recti- 
fied spirit of wine (strong), or rectified wood naphtha, 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 301 

three ounces. The rectified spirit of wine makes a far 
superior composition, but the other is good enough for 
-all ordinary work. Dissolve the shellac in the spirit, in 
a corked bottle in a warm place ; frequent shaking will 
assist it in dissolving, and it should also be shaken before 
use. This composition may be used as a varnish for un- 
painted wood. 

PERPETUAL PASTE. 

Take one ounce of gum tragacanth or gum dragon ; 
pick it clean, and put it into a wide-mouthed vessel of 
glass or white ware, capable of containing a quart. Add 
as much corrosive sublimate as will lie on a five-cent 
piece. Then pour on a pint and -a half of clean soft 
water, cold. Cover the vessel and leave it till next day, 
when the gum will be dissolved, and will nearly fill the 
vessel. Stir the mass well with a piece of stick — not 
with metal, because the corrosive sublimate will blacken 
it. Repeat the stirring several times during the day, 
when it must be left, and it will form a thick white jelly. 
It must be kept closely covered, and under lock and key, 
as the corrosive sublimate is poisonous. It will keep for 
any length of time if the air is excluded, and if it is not 
put into a vessel of metal. For paper and many other 
things it forms a strong and colorless cement ; and since 
it may be always at hand, it may tend to induce persons 
to do a number of small useful jobs, which would be ne- 
glected if paste had to be made. If the above rules are 
followed, especially about not allowing continued expos- 
ure to the air, and not keeping it in metal, it will be 
very slow to spoil. 



302 HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 

POLISHING PASTE. 

Half a pound of mottled soap cut into pieces, mixed 
with half a pound of rotten stone in powder ; put them 
into a saucepan with enough of cold water to cover the 
mixture (about three pints) ; boil slowly till dissolved to 
a paste. 

CEMENT FOR MENDING BROKEN VESSELS. 

To half a pint of milk put a sufficient quantity of vin- 
egar in order to curdle it ; separate the curd from the 
whey, and mix the whey with the whites of four eggs, 
beating the whole well together ; when mixed add a 
little quick-lime through a sieve, until it acquires the con- 
sistency of a paste. With this cement broken vessels or 
cracks can be repaired ; it dries quickly, and resists the 
action of fire and water. 

TO MEND CHINA. 

Mix together equal parts of fine glue, white of egg, 
and white lead, and with it anoint the edges of the 
articles to be mended; press them together, and when 
hard and dry scrape off as much of the cement as sticks 
about the joint. The juice of garlic is another good 
cement, and leaves no mark where it has been used. 

WATERPROOF BOOTS. 

I have had three pairs of boots for the last six years 
(no shoes), and I think I shall not require any more for 
the next six years to come. The reason is, that I treat 
them in the following manner : I put a pound of tallow 
and half a pound of resin in a pot on the fire ; when 



HOUSEHOLD RECIPES. 303 

melted and mixed, I warm the boots and apply the hot 
stuff with a painter's brush, until neither the sole nor the 
upper leather will suck in any more. If it is desired that 
the boots should immediately take a polish, melt an 
ounce of wax with a teaspoonful of lampblack. A day 
after the boots have been treated with tallow and resin, 
rub over them this wax in turpentine, but not before the 
fire. The exterior will then have a coat of wax alone, 
and wall shine like a mirror. Tallow, or any other grease 
becomes rancid and rots the stitching as well as 
leather ; but the resin gives it an antiseptic quality which 
preserves the w r hole. Boots and shoes should be so large 
as to admit of wearing cork soles. 

TO GET A TIGHT KING OFF THE FINGEK. 

If the finger on w r hich a ring has been placed has 
swollen, and there seems a difficulty of removing the 
ring, pass a needle and cotton under it, pull the cotton 
up toward the hand, and twist the remaining cotton 
round the finger several times until it reaches the nail. 
By taking hold of the end nearest the hand, it is gener- 
ally an easy matter to slide the ring off the finger, how- 
ever much difficulty there may have appeared in doing so 
before the experiment was tried. 



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